In Between Time
by Qweb
Summary: Possible spoilers for AoU. In between the events of CA: TWS and Age of Ultron, the Avengers assembled to fight Hydra, bonding as a team in the process. These are random stories set in that time. Ain't we got fun! Not a "A Very Good Team" story; more in line with the MCU. Ch8-Mistaken Identity. Ch9-Cupid. Ch10-Cupid2. Ch11-Easter Sunrise. Ch12-Easter Morning. Ch13&14-The Contact.
1. In Between Time

_A/N: This series of stories will be much like "A Very Good Team," I expect. Some action, some humor, a lot of chitchat, but it's set "in between time," in between the end of "Winter Soldier" and the beginning of "Age of Ultron," so, possible SPOILERS for things we learned during Ultron. It is now_ _canon_ _that the Avengers were working together in that period, tracking down Hydra cells and (in my head canon) dealing with anything else that came their way. I place "Enemies List" and "Cap's Shield: Versatile in Vibranium" in the same continuity as this series. Not "Enemies List 2," however, I veered too far out of continuity with that one. These chapters will not necessarily be in order. I know I have at least one idea that comes before this story, but this is the title chapter. So let's get started. In the meantime, in between time, ain't we got fun?_

* * *

 **In Between Time**

Steve Rogers hummed a song from his childhood. The words ran through his mind as he ran through the streets of Brooklyn.

" _Every morning, every evening, ain't we got fun?_ _Not much money, oh, but honey, ain't we got fun?"_

The tune brought back memories — or maybe the memories brought back the tune. Steve thought of standing on the sidelines, watching Bucky dance with all the girls. You might think it was a sad memory, since Steve never danced, but he'd enjoyed the music and enjoyed seeing Bucky have fun. He'd always felt bad at how much Bucky had given up to help his sickly friend, so Steve had been content to nurse a cheap beer and chat with the other wallflowers while Bucky danced and flirted.

Despite poverty, illness and the Great Depression, the two young men had had some good times in Brooklyn back in the day. Steve hoped those memories would bring Bucky Barnes back to their old haunts. So, after Steve was released from the hospital, he left his bullet-riddled apartment in Washington D.C. and moved back to the old neighborhood in Brooklyn. There were few buildings left from Steve's day. The area had been rebuilt and was a lot nicer than when he'd lived there — gentrification, they called it. Steve's new place was a townhouse, just across the street from the tenement where he and Bucky had shared an apartment in 1940. That tenement had been torn down and a cluster of businesses occupied the space, including a neighborhood market and a trendy boutique.

Early every morning, when few people were around, Steve ran through the streets. He wore what he thought of as his workout clothes: sneakers, cargo shorts, a Brooklyn Dodgers baseball cap and a thigh-length T-shirt with a wrap-around picture of Iron Man about to blast his repulsors. Yes, it was a gift from Tony Stark. Yes, Steve only wore it for jogging — and sweating. Steve hoped his presence and even the gaudy shirt would attract the attention of Bucky Barnes.

But he knew there was always the chance he'd attract someone else.

" _There's nothing surer:_ _the rich get rich, and the poor get poorer._ _In the meantime, in between time, ain't we got fun?"_

The humming stopped as Steve stopped, facing a man who had stepped out of an alley pointing a nasty looking machine pistol. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw two more men move behind him carrying semiautomatics.

Bouncing a little on the balls of his feet, Steve said, "Can I help you boys?"

Blond and almost as buff as the super soldier, the leader stood carefully out of Steve's reach and smirked. "Maybe we couldn't find the Asset in his hometown, but I bet you'd make a good consolation prize."

"His name is James Buchanan Barnes, not 'The Asset,'" Steve snarled.

"His 'name' is whatever Hydra chooses to call him," the leader snarled back. "Weapons don't have names — as you'll find out soon enough."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Steve said.

Looking at Steve's T-shirt, the blond laughed, "Iron Man can't save you. You're coming with us whether you like it or not."

"You'll have to kill me first," Steve vowed.

The leader shrugged. "That's an acceptable second choice."

"My friend wouldn't think so."

"Friend…?"

"On your left!" bellowed a voice from the sky.

The two henchmen looked up in alarm, only to see black boots descending rapidly. Engines roared, braking Falcon just as his feet slammed into one gunman's face, knocking him backwards into the other. Sam Wilson came to a running halt, after trampling the two men into the sidewalk.

"My bad," Sam said. "I was in your face, not on your left."

When the leader was distracted by the attack from above, Steve struck. The man stood beyond Steve's arm's reach, so Captain America kicked him, a spinning sidekick that launched the leader into the pile with his friends. The leader's gun fired randomly as he flew, but seemed to have no effect.

"Roof!" Sam called, tossing Cap his shield.

Steve spun, putting the shield between him and Sam and the sniper both had seen on a nail salon's roof. A shot spanged off the shield, then another shot cracked. The sniper fell backwards, dropping his rifle, which tumbled off the roof, bounced off an awning and landed neatly in an open dumpster.

"Bucky?" Steve said to himself hopefully.

"Sorry, Cap, wrong sniper," a familiar voice said apologetically over the comms that both Steve and Sam wore in their ears.

"Barton," Steve acknowledged, identifying the newcomer for Sam.

"Where are you, man?" Sam asked, unhappy that he'd missed spotting a sniper.

"In the big fake tree," Clint Barton answered. An arrow sped to the roof of the nail salon, embedding itself in something the men on the street couldn't see. A figure zip-lined out of the branches of the fake-tree cell tower to the roof.

"We wanted to take them alive for questioning," Steve explained, not complaining that Clint meant to protect them.

"Oh, he's alive," Clint said. "He's just unhappy about the hole in his shooting shoulder."

In a few moments, a bound figure was lowered to the ground. Steve crossed the quiet street to literally pick up the package, slinging the sniper over his shoulder. Clint lowered himself to the pavement beside his fellow Avenger. Steve shook his hand.

"Nice to see you. Come meet my friend Sam Wilson."

They crossed the street and dumped the groaning sniper onto the pile of Hydra agents.

"Sam, this is Clint Barton. Hawkeye, this is Falcon," Steve made introductions.

"As one bird to another, welcome to the superhero family," Clint said with a grin. "Nice work on the helicarriers."

"Nice work against the Chitauri," Sam responded, shaking Clint's hand.

"So, you've got four to question," Clint said. He rubbed his hands wickedly. "Where do we start?"

"Not with us," one of the gunmen said quickly. "We just work for him," he nodded at the leader, who was just coming around. "We don't know anything about Hydra or Assets or anything." His companion and the sniper nodded vigorous agreement.

"Just cannon fodder," Steve said with disappointment.

"So, what about you?" Sam said, standing over the leader menacingly.

"Hail Hydra!" the leader snarled defiantly, and bit down hard on his back molar.

The scent of bitter almonds rose to Captain America's sensitive nostrils. "A true believer!" Steve said happily.

He snapped a capsule open with his thumb and planted his hand over the leader's mouth, like a oxygen mask. He punched the leader lightly in the diaphragm, making the man gasp, sucking in the sharp fumes released by the capsule.

"What was that?" the man panted, eyes wide in fright.

Steve leaned forward, wearing a wicked grin that looked out of place on Captain America's face. (But Bucky Barnes would have recognized it.)

"It's an antidote for cyanide," Steve hissed. Then he jabbed the man in the thigh with an injector pen.

The leader yelled at the sudden pain.

"It's a two-part antidote," Sam explained casually, with an equally wicked grin. "I'll get the van," he told Steve. He launched into the air and zoomed away with a whine of engines.

"That ought to hold you until we get the IV set up," Steve told the leader who seemed too sick to pay much attention.

Clint was watching Sam fly off. "Those aren't the wings he had before."

"No, those were destroyed. Tony found the prototype for Sam to use while he builds a newer, better set," Steve answered.

Steve quickly bound the Hydra followers, while Hawkeye stood guard, his casually aimed arrow seeming even more menacing than a pointed gun. The two hirelings edged away from the wounded sniper and the leader, who was moaning and twitching, as chemicals battled in his system.

When Steve had everyone trussed to his satisfaction, he stepped out of earshot to join Clint.

"I didn't expect Captain America to be so mean," Clint joked.

"Cap isn't," Steve answered. "But Steve Rogers just found out that Hydra tortured and brainwashed his best friend for 70 years. Steve is a punk from the mean streets of Brooklyn and he hates bullies," Steve said darkly.

Clint was silent for a long moment, digesting this view of an American legend.

"Where'd you come from?" Steve asked.

"Nat 'volunteered' me to look after you. She said you were in your hometown making a target of yourself, hoping to attract the Winter Soldier. She didn't like you roaming the streets unprotected." Clint eyed Steve's T-shirt and shorts.

"I wasn't unprotected," Steve said.

"Falcon's good backup," Clint acknowledged. "But it's a good thing blondie's shot went wild. I didn't have a good angle on him. You were in the way."

"The shot didn't go wild," Steve said. "It ricocheted off my chest." He plucked at the Iron Man decal on his right side just above his ribs. He showed Clint the lead smear on his fingertips.

Clint was astonished. "How …?" He touched the T-shirt and immediately realized the shirt was more stiff than could be accounted for by a decal. "What…?"

"Tony calls it StarKloth, 'better than Kevlar,'" Steve said.

"It's so thin," Clint marveled. "Did it bruise?" Without a by your leave, Clint tugged up Steve's T-shirt to see a minor bruise where the bullet had hit. "I suppose that would have broken a rib for anyone else."

"If you're finished undressing me in public …" Steve hinted.

"Sorry, but, damn, I want some of that for undercover work. What about a head shot?" Clint looked at the baseball cap. "That, too?"

"Yes."

With his head and most of his body covered, Steve was nearly as well protected as a SWAT officer executing a search warrant. And he looked so innocent. Then Clint remembered what he'd heard over the comms. He laughed. "Wait, so when blondie said, 'Iron Man can't save you.'"

"He was wrong," Steve said with a smirk.

A closed van shaped suspiciously like an unmarked ambulance pulled up with Sam Wilson in the driver's seat. His wings were folded on the passenger seat.

The men quickly loaded the Hydra agents into the back of the van, making sure to hook up the leader to an IV to continue the treatment for cyanide poisoning.

Steve patted his cheek. "We're going to find out everything you know about Hydra and 'The Asset,' everything you tried to hide by killing yourself."

The leader sneered. "Torture really isn't Captain America's style."

"Maybe not," Steve agreed. He shoved his face close to blondie's and bared his teeth fiercely. "But I know people," he growled.

"I'm sure the Black Widow would be glad to oblige," agreed Clint, as he cracked his knuckles casually. "She really liked Director Fury."

At long last, the cocky Hydra agent went pale.

With a wicked grin, Steve nodded at Clint and sang softly, "In the meantime, in between time, ain't we got fun!"

* * *

 _A/N: StarKloth is a nod to "A Very Good Team," but that story ended up far afield of where the Marvel movies and Agents of SHIELD have gone. My intent with "In Between Time" is to be more in line with the movies. I may not be able to post next Saturday. I'm going to Budapest. (Really.) The ship is supposed to have Wi-Fi, so I might be able to post with my cellphone. But I might be too busy._


	2. Apparently

_A/N: This takes place prior to the first chapter, as will become obvious. Spoilers for Age of Ultron._

* * *

 **Apparently**

Natasha Romanoff's phone played a three-note tune she hadn't expected to hear, not here, not now.

She frowned at the phone, then smiled at her companion, as she pushed the button to answer, but kept her hand over the microphone.

"Excuse me, sweetie," she told her companion. "I just need a moment."

She slipped gracefully off the bed, tightened her robe around her and went into the bathroom. Carefully locking the door behind her, she sat on the toilet lid and finally uncovered the microphone.

"Hello," she said cautiously.

"Natasha," a familiar voice greeted her. Not one of the voices she expected. She relaxed, yet tensed at the same time — a difficult trick.

"Steven," she said, with warning in her voice, like a mother talking to a misbehaving child. "How did you get this number?"

"Hill," Steve Rogers said succinctly. "You doing OK?"

"Can the small talk, Rogers. You didn't call to see how I am."

"No," Steve admitted. "I wouldn't have intruded if something hadn't come up. But I am concerned about my friend, Natasha. How are you?"

Natasha relented. "I'm getting there, but, Steve, I'm not ready to come back and, honestly, I'm not interested in helping you find your boyfriend. I'm sorry, Steve, I know it's personal for you …"

"This isn't about Bucky," Steve interrupted. "And it's personal for all of us, especially Barton. Think you can find him?"

"I might be able to track him down," she said cautiously. She was starting to get a very bad feeling about this.

"Hydra has Loki's scepter," Steve said bluntly.

Natasha was glad she was already sitting down, because her knees went weak. She felt nauseated, wanting to deny the possibility, and yet it made a sick sort of sense. SHIELD had taken the scepter for "safekeeping," but Hydra had been inside SHIELD all along.

"Are you sure?" she asked. It was only thanks to her lifetime of training that her voice didn't quaver, and yet the super soldier sensed it.

"It took Hill awhile to complete an inventory," Steve replied, giving her time to recover. "A lot of weapons were stolen from the Fridge, but recovered by a team of loyal SHIELD agents, but the scepter was just gone. Some SHIELD scientist named Strucker signed it out for research. The day before Insight, he and his whole team just disappeared."

"Strucker," Natasha growled. "Clint always called him a Nazi. Who knew it was true."

"I thought you and Clint would want to know," Steve said. "Finding Strucker has become our new priority."

"Our?"

"We're getting the band back together, Romanoff!" Tony Stark's voice hollered from the background. "Gonna go Hydra hunting!"

Natasha could almost picture Steve pinching the bridge of his nose. "We could use your help, you and Clint. If you're ready. No pressure."

"No, not like there's a problem if Hydra has an army of brainwashed slaves!" Tony shouted again.

"I … I'll get back to you, Steve." Natasha paused. "You still trolling for the Winter Soldier in Brooklyn?"

"Yes, until we get some more intel on Hydra or the scepter."

"I'll find you." Natasha shut off her phone, took several deep breaths, rearranged her nightgown and pasted a smile on her face.

"Sorry, sweetie," she said, as she rejoined her companion on the bed. "Where were we?"

"You were being Daddy," little Lila Barton said, handing Natasha the Hawkeye "Heroes of New York" action figure, complete with quiver and a bow slung over his shoulder.

Natasha gave the girl a genuine smile and took the action figure.

"I'm Mommy," Lila announced, picking up a dark-haired Barbie doll. Lila bounced her doll to the sink in the Barbie kitchen. Nat walked her doll "into the house."

"Hi, honey, I'm home," she said in as deep a voice as she could.

A genuinely deep voice chuckled behind her. "Now they need to kiss," Clint Barton suggested, taking a sip from a plastic cup of orange juice.

Lila brought the two dolls' faces together, making big smooch noises.

"I think it's time for you two girls to get dressed," Clint said. "We're going to Annie's for breakfast."

"Yay!" Lila said. She abandoned her dolls on Natasha's bed and scrambled for her own room.

"So, who called?" Clint asked, when his daughter was out of earshot. Laura moved up beside him and Natasha realized they had heard the phone ring.

"Steve's 'getting the band back together'," Natasha said.

"He did not say that," Clint laughed, trying to imagine that phrase coming out of Captain America's mouth.

"No, that was the mechanic," Natasha admitted.

Clint sobered. "So, Steve and Tony are in this."

Laura wrapped her hands around Clint's muscular arm. She liked having her husband and Auntie Nat safe at home, but she'd always known it wouldn't last. Natasha studied her hands.

"What's wrong, Nat?"

She decided to be as blunt as Steve had been. "Hydra has the scepter."

A convulsive reflex tightened Clint's grip, crushing the cup and squirting orange juice all over his fist.

Laura squeaked in alarm. Clint didn't say a word. He barged past the women into the bathroom. He spent a long time washing his hands. Nat wondered if he was examining his eyes in the mirror. He must have ducked his head under the faucet at some point, because he came out scrubbing his hair with a towel.

"We're going to have to go," he told Laura.

"I understand. You can't let Hydra get away with a weapon so dangerous," she said, looking just as fierce as the former SHIELD agents. That scepter had hurt her husband and Hydra had tried to kill Natasha and Clint. The farm wife hated Hydra even more than the agents did.

"We'll go after breakfast," Natasha said. "You promised Lila."

"Right. I'll get the car," he said.

As Clint left, Laura offered Natasha a hug. "I'm going to miss you. It's nice having another adult around for a change."

"Heard that!" Clint called from the porch.

"Thank you for letting me share your peace and quiet while I was looking for myself again," Natasha said.

Lila and her brother thundered down the stairs, making Laura chuckle at the idea of peace and quiet.

"You're welcome any time, Natasha." Laura hugged Natasha again and whispered in her ear. "Take care of him for me?"

"Always."

They walked each other to the door. "I'm sorry you didn't have more time to find yourself," Laura said.

"Maybe I did," Natasha said with a shrug. "Apparently, I'm an Avenger."

* * *

 _A/N: I liked the idea of Clintasha, but I'm all about canon, so Clint is married with kids. Even though Joss only did it to make us certain Clint would die in Sokovia, because the guy with the pregnant wife always dies, right? Anyway, the mention of Hydra trying to kill Clint refers to my story "Enemies List."_


	3. Sidekick

**Sidekick**

Sam Wilson was in love. She was the prettiest thing he'd seen in a month of Sundays. The sleek wings were gleaming, gunmetal gray with articulated feathers that shifted and bent like a real bird's wings. Sam's eyes switched back and forth between the actual wings displayed in Tony Stark's lab and the simulation that Jarvis obligingly played on a loop on the monitor.

Sam was brought out of his trance by the feel of cloth on his chin.

"You were drooling," Captain America said dryly, using a pocket handkerchief to wipe his friend's chin as if he were a toddler.

Sam batted Cap's hands away and rubbed his forearm across his mouth, realizing with chagrin that Steve Rogers hadn't been exaggerating.

But then Sam stiffened his spine. He wasn't ashamed … at … all! The new Falcon jetpack totally deserved every drop of salivary appreciation he could give her.

"Why shouldn't I drool?" he demanded. "I mean, look at her!"

"I think Sam has a new girlfriend," Maria Hill told Natasha Romanoff with friendly mockery.

"One who doesn't care if he forgets her birthday," Natasha said. "Which he won't."

The women laughed. Sam made a face at them.

Before anyone else could speak, Tony Stark reclaimed his audience's attention. "The controls are basically the same as the old EXO, but the wings have more finesse, so they might take a little getting used to. We might need to make some adjustments. Want to try them out?"

Sam eagerly said, "Yes!" at the same moment Steve, Maria and Natasha all said a decisive, "No!" Steve even used his Cap voice.

"Why not?" Tony whined, as Sam pouted.

"You're not trying out something 'that might need a few adjustments' from the top of a skyscraper," Cap said flatly. Sam shook himself as if coming out of the water. He remembered the many accidents he'd had while learning to fly the EXO. Suddenly the kid on Christmas morning was replaced by the experienced test pilot.

"Right. Good point. Excellent point."

Tony looked as if he might argue, but Maria had been tutored in how to manage him. "This sounds like a good time to check out the facility upstate," she suggested.

Tony brightened instantly.

"Another excellent idea," he admitted. "The building is under construction," he told the others who looked baffled. "But there's plenty of space to fly. Give the crew a day off tomorrow," he told Maria. "We'll all go inspect the Avengers new training facility."

"The Avengers what…?" Steve both asked and complained. He was supposed to be the Avengers leader.

* * *

The next day, Maria and Natasha joined the men to watch the test of the Falcon Mark 2. They came because the test had equal chance of being awesome and hysterical. To show their support, they drove up in a fully equipped ambulance.

"Hilarious," Sam said sourly, sounding just like Cap.

"We brought the wings," Maria offered.

"You're forgiven, then," Sam said magnanimously.

Iron Man dropped from the sky a moment later. "Brought the suit, you know, just in case you need someone to catch you."

"Tony," Steve said sternly.

"I wouldn't want such a connoisseur of mechanical greatness to get hurt," Tony protested, as if Steve had been arguing in favor of Sam being injured.

"Tony," Steve warned.

"There shouldn't be any problems. Everything checks out in simulation."

"But failure is always an option," Sam intoned.

"I love that show!" Tony said.

"Of course you do. They blow stuff up," Maria said dryly.

"That's the best part," Sam agreed.

Steve sighed and gave it up.

Sam rubbed his palms together. "Let's try them out," he said eagerly. Sam was wearing his black flight suit. Tony attached the wings to his back, fussing over the connectors for a moment, then he stepped back.

"Extend the wings," he said.

Sam snapped the wings out and started at the sudden flash of color in his peripheral vision. The wings were no longer dull gray, they had bands of red. "What the…?"

"Why red?" Natasha asked.

Tony grinned wickedly. "If you're going to be a superhero sidekick, you need to color coordinate," he said, gesturing from Sam to Cap's patriotic uniform.

"I'm not his sidekick," Sam protested.

The women chuckled. "You kind of are," Maria said.

"Maria and I both heard you say, 'I do what he does, only slower'," Natasha added, carefully not saying to whom Sam was talking, because Tony didn't know Fury was alive.

"There, that's the very definition of a sidekick," Tony chuckled.

"What's the matter, Sam, don't you want to be my sidekick?" Steve pulled a big fake pout at his friend.

"Stop it! That's just wrong when you're wearing the Cap suit," Sam grumbled. "All right. I'll be your sidekick! Just never make that face again!"

In truth, he could think of a lot worse things than being considered Captain America's sidekick. Meeting Cap had been such an honor, Sam had been hard put to not fanboy all over him. He'd been desperate to make a real connection, to not let Steve Rogers get away. The whole "the bed is too soft" had been kind of pathetic, but it had worked. Steve had talked to Sam man-to-man, serviceman-to-serviceman. That would have been a treasured moment in Sam's life. And then Steve had come to him for help, first just to talk at the VA, then in desperate need.

Sam Wilson had Air Force medals to prove he was a hero, but it was talking about marshmallow beds that made him a superhero. Life is damn strange sometimes.

Making friends with Steve Rogers had changed Sam's life for the weird — but he wouldn't have it any other way.

Remembering this had put a kind of goofy grin on his face. He came back to the present when Steve nudged him with an elbow. "If you're going to get creepy about it, I don't want a sidekick."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sam said with dignity, rather spoiled by his grin. "You're the weird one. I'm just a test pilot about to try some new wings." Then, "What?" he directed at Maria and Natasha, who were staring.

"Those wings are very responsive," Natasha said. "When you stood up straight, they stretched full and proud." Maria chuckled. "And now you're getting defensive, they're curling around you protectively."

From the corner of his eye, Sam saw the wings curling between him and the women who were mocking him. He glared at the telltale wingtips and they unfurled again, slowly, as if embarrassed.

"The controller reads body position and directional gaze," Tony offered. "But that's more sensitive than I expected."

He rapped a wing as it moved near him. It made a solid metallic sound, though the wings seemed light as air to Sam. Lighter than his old jet pack.

"A new titanium alloy," Tony explained. "Light as a feather ..." Tony chuckled. "But strong. Bulletproof. And the shoulder connections are reinforced. No Soviet assassin with a metal arm is going to rip it off."

"No, he'll probably just use it to beat you against the ground," Natasha said cheerfully.

"No, he won't, because he isn't controlled by Hydra any more," Steve said with certainty.

"All right, enough chitchat. I want to see some flying!" Tony demanded, as if he wasn't the one who always did at least half the chattering.

* * *

"Now, remember," Tony warned. "The controls are more sensitive than the EXO-7, so take it easy until you get used to them."

"OK," Sam agreed. He reached for the on switch.

"Wait!" Natasha said. She pulled an open-faced motorcycle helmet from behind her back and plopped it on Sam's head, fastening the chinstrap before he could protest. Sam frowned at her, maybe the helmet was a good idea, but did Natasha have to choose a pink helmet with sparkles?

Steve hid his amusement well, but none of the others bothered.

"I don't think that's going to work, Romanoff," Tony said, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. "The pink clashes with the red in the wings."

"Change the wings to pink," Natasha suggested with a shrug.

"Then he won't match Cap," Tony answered.

"You know, Cap has this red, white and blue theme," Maria pointed out. "If you mix red, white and blue you get lavender. That would go with pink," Maria said helpfully.

"Hilarious," Steve said in his "the Captain is not amused" voice. He could see that the byplay was unsettling Sam when he should be focused. "And they told me vaudeville was dead. Are we ready to start now, or do you have a song and dance act next?"

The women wiped their grins from their faces and Tony said, "Right, back to work." He shut his face plate and Iron Man rose, hovering three meters high.

Steve clapped Sam's shoulder. "When you're ready."

"Right." Distracted by the teasing, Sam forgot Tony's instructions and reverted to his EXO habits. He shot straight up, slammed his helmeted head into a sturdy tree branch and dropped straight down, ending up on his butt in the grass, before Iron Man could react.

"Sam!" Steve, Natasha and Maria rushed to him.

"I said 'easy'!" Tony said, anxiously hovering above the fallen airman.

"Are you all right?" Natasha asked, kneeling beside Sam, as Maria brought the first aid kit. Sam waved Maria away.

"I'm OK, just surprised me," Sam said ruefully. He looked at Natasha. "Guess the helmet came in handy."

"I'm sorry we were playing around, when you needed to concentrate," Natasha apologized sincerely.

"It's all good," Sam said, staggering to his feet, supported by Cap's steady grip. "No, really, I'm OK."

Sam insisted he wanted to try again.

"Easy!" Tony pleaded.

"Easy," Sam agreed.

Steve pulled him farther from the trees, then Sam lifted off again — carefully. He handled the jet pack easily, but the wings caused problems. When he lost focus, his EXO-7 reflexes took over and the new wings careened out of control. Iron Man caught him twice, cursing because the wings scratched his armor. Twice Sam crashed through the trees out of Tony's reach. He got hung up on a branch once and tumbled harmlessly a few feet to the ground another time.

But he believed he was getting the hang of it. The wings were so responsive, he felt like a bird. He rose higher, maneuvering with more confidence, turning, spinning, even back-winging successfully. Then, ironically, a falcon passed overhead and its shadow startled Sam. He shot sideways, lost control and plummeted to the ground, tumbling end over end. Tony zoomed after him, but the direction change had put him out of position.

"I've got him," Steve announced calmly. He positioned himself in a spot to catch his friend, though he fully expected to be sliced up by the flailing metal wings. Sam saw his friend below and instinctively tried to curl into a ball, and the wings reacted. So Steve caught a neatly wing-wrapped bundle of best friend.

The wing tips covered Sam's face, as if he couldn't look. In a moment, they shifted aside to let him peek out. "Is it safe?" he asked.

"It is and you are," Steve answered. He set his friend on his feet. Sam's wings unfurled, then neatly folded behind his back.

Tony watched, amazed at what he'd wrought. He'd intended the CPU to learn, but he'd expected something simple, like his spell checker knowing not to question "Clint" and "Asgard" any more. But this seemed a grade higher. The wings seemed to have a real intelligence, not Jarvis level, but Seeing Eye Dog level, perhaps. Sometimes Tony amazed himself.

"I think that's enough for today," Cap said.

"No, give me another try," Sam said. "I really felt a connection that last time."

Without waiting for a yes or no, Sam shot into the air. He flew fast and slow. He hovered. He turned and curved and did acrobatics. He still faltered occasionally, but caught himself instantly. He finally swooped down, then back-winged and touched down lightly, wings folding neatly behind his back.

"That was beautiful," Maria said.

"Well done, Sam. And, Stark, you've outdone yourself," Natasha said, as Cap helped Sam take off the wings.

"Thanks, but just I had a horrible thought," Tony said mischievously. "Wilson can't be Cap's sidekick. Cap already had a sidekick — Bucky Barnes."

"Bucky was never my sidekick," Steve said instantly.

"According to the comics he was."

"According to the comics, he was a kid and wore tights," Steve retorted dryly. "Bucky was my best friend and my right hand man in the Army."

"That just means Wilson is taking three of Barnes' jobs — sidekick, right hand man and best friend."

Sam's heart swelled with pride to think that Tony thought he was Steve's best friend.

"That could be a problem," Natasha said thoughtfully, but with a twinkle in her eye that made Sam wary. "What if Barnes remembers enough to want his place back?"

"Ooh, a jealous Winter Soldier, very scary," Tony joked.

And Sam knew Natasha and Tony were joking, but he had a visceral memory of a metal arm slamming through his windshield and tearing the steering wheel out of his hands and clear out of his car!

"My advice," Maria said, playing along. "If the Winter Soldier asks for his old job back, give it to him!"

Steve saw Sam make a face, like none of this was really funny. Cap's warm hand gave Sam's shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"Don't worry, Sam. You have a job Bucky never had." He flicked a finger, making one of the metal feathers ring. "You're my wingman," Steve said.


	4. I Sing the Battle Electric

_A/N: Here's the big story. It's not a dream. It's not a metaphor. It's a_ _battle_ _._

 **I Sing the Battle Electric**

Tony Stark squirmed within the Iron Man suit. "Guys, I'm stuck. I can't break free of these forcefields."

The other Avengers — Captain America, Hawkeye and Black Widow — regarded the situation with alarm. Iron Man was pinned in midair like a bug on an invisible spider web.

* * *

Earlier:

Discarded by the destruction of Insight, a Hydra scientist had resorted to experimenting on himself. He gave himself lightning powers, but apparently also drove himself insane. Or maybe he was already insane; Stark wasn't going to judge.

The mad scientist turned a tank into a forecfield generator and turned his robot assistants into an army, then he began to march on Washington D.C. to get revenge for the fall of the helicarriers.

No one understood his logic. The scientist was mad, after all. The politicians and important people had fled the city in helicopters, leaving only national monuments and innocent, ground-bound civilians trapped in a nightmare traffic jam to face his wrath.

The mad scientist's forcefield disintegrated everything it touched, demolishing a wide swath around the tank as it rolled along, unstoppable.

The battalion left a trail of bare earth in its wake, tearing up fields and knocking down forests and farm buildings as it moved. Nothing so far could stand against it. The Army tried to stop the mad man, but tank shells bounced off the dome of force. The mad scientist just laughed and fried the tanks with his electrobolts.

With lightning flying like the worst thunderstorm ever, the military pulled back to let the Avengers take over.

* * *

The scene wasn't as strange as flying space whales, but it was close. Something that looked like a white enameled tank projected a pale yellow domed forcefield wide enough to protect a company of bright yellow robotic foot soldiers. Their general was a masked man wearing what looked like a black wetsuit with forked lightning sparking across his costume — not an image of lightning, but real electric current shifting up and down his legs and across his chest.

"Gaudy outfits," Steve Rogers commented.

"Says the man dressed like a sparkly American flag," snarked Iron Man as he hovered above the group.

"Says the man in the red and gold tin can," countered Clint Barton, confident in the obscurity of his drab, sleeveless vest and dark pants.

They all heard Tony's intake of breath as he prepared another jibe.

"Save it," Natasha Romanoff advised.

"Right. Then let's see what this thing's made of." Iron Man launched four tiny missiles from his left epaulet. They hit the forcefield from four directions. The explosions didn't even make the dome flicker, but returned a lot of useful data to Tony's computer.

The power levels made him whistle.

The tiny missiles also attracted the attention of the lightning man. He sprang to the rear of the tanklike forcefield generator and made some adjustments. Two appendages extended to and through the forcefield, which molded neatly around them. A spark appeared at each tip, and then suddenly Iron Man was caught.

"Something's got me!" Tony gasped. "Forcefield. Trying to crush me."

He sent full power to the suit's structural integrity fields, but the crushing force was draining his power.

"Now, Iron Man, you will know the power of Lightning Strike!" the mad scientist gloated. "First I will knock you out of the sky, then I will obliterate the American government."

All the time he was speaking, the forcefield dome continued to move slowly but inexorably toward Washington, destroying vegetation and fences in a wide path.

"Who is he kidding? The people will evacuate. They are evacuating. He'll only destroy the buildings," Natasha scoffed.

"Nobody touches the Lincoln Memorial on my watch," declared Captain America.

"That's just too cliché, Cap," Tony gasped, ready to spend his last breath on a quip.

"I mean it. I love that monument," Steve protested.

"I think I'm offended that he hasn't even bothered to attack us," commented Hawkeye, as he fired arrow after explosive arrow at the wands outside the forcefield. Cap threw his shield at full force. There was little that could withstand its sharp vibranium edge, but it merely took a chip — more like a fleck, really — off the wand.

"Must be adamantium," Natasha said grimly.

The minor scratch made Lightning Strike screech with fury. Another wand shot through the forcefield, aimed at Cap.

"Oh good, now we got his attention," Clint said cheerfully.

Electricity crackled around the tip of this wand.

"Look out!" Cap yelled. Clint and Natasha ducked behind his shield, because it was the only cover in the field plowed clean by the moving forcefield. Lightning zapped from the wand. It struck the shield and rebounded, scorching shrubbery outside the cleared swath.

Answering lightning forked across the sky. Thunder boomed. Captain America looked up in sudden hope. Lightning Strike misinterpreted his expression. "Are you afraid of storms, Captain? I love the lightning and its power!" he gloated.

"You might not be so happy about what comes after," Cap warned.

Hawkeye had been scanning the clouds. His keen vision spotted the oddly shaped missile flying their way.

"Incoming!" Clint said into the comm and shoved Natasha into the shelter of Cap's shield again. The three Avengers ducked low.

The arcane might of Mjolnir blasted through the merely Midgardian adamantium. The ray arms shattered, cutting off the forcefield snare. Iron Man dropped heavily, sitting down with a crash. A muscular form with flying blond hair dropped beside him with a force that left dents in the ground beneath his feet. The Asgardian god raised his hand and the hurtling hammer returned to its owner.

"My friends, you started the festivities without me," Thor chided jovially. His free hand lifted Iron Man to his feet and steadied him until he could stand alone.

"You know how it is," Tony answered, his jesting tone a little breathless. "You live too far outside cell phone range. Think Asgard could make room for a small cell tower? I'd spring for the construction costs."

"I do not think it would suit the décor," Thor answered solemnly. Jane Foster's lessons in life on Midgard were paying off.

"Yeah, NIMBY is a bitch," Tony agreed.

Jane hadn't gotten to "not in my backyard," yet, but Thor knew to let Tony's unfamiliar references drop when they were in mid-battle.

"Are you well, my friend?" he said instead.

"Feeling a little … compacted," Tony decided. "And power's low. Otherwise, tip top."

"Glad to hear it," Cap interjected. "Good to see you, Thor. Your timing was perfect."

"Yeah, how'd you know we needed a lightning expert?" Hawkeye asked. "Did the all-seeing eye of your friend Heimdal spot our trouble?"

"No, it was the all-seeing eye of your television news that said my comrades were going to face a manipulator of electricity, so I thought I would contend with him to see which of us is the true master of lightning."

"Hey!"

"Oh look, the villain is miffed that we're ignoring him," Tony snarked. "You never were good enough to hang with the popular kids, were you?"

Lightning Strike raged at the insolent Iron Man.

"Why are you doing this?" Steve asked.

"Because you can't stop me!" the villain taunted.

"That's no reason." Cap being Cap had to try to reason with the madman.

"It's the best reason!"

* * *

Steve's eyes were fixed on Lightning Strike, in case he tried another electric attack. Cap felt rather than saw Natasha lean close to Hawkeye, saying something outside the comm. Clint turned away from her and Steve heard the whir and click of the quiver turning, a noise inaudible to anyone except a Super Soldier standing at his side. And then Natasha vanished from his perception.

It took all of Captain America's discipline to refrain from looking for her and possibly tipping Lightning Strike to her actions — whatever they were.

"Yeah, yeah," Tony said dismissively, holding the mad scientist's attention while Black Widow slipped away. He clapped a metal-clad hand on Thor's brawny biceps. "Listen, my buddy has forgotten more about lightning than you'll ever know."

Lightning Strike made a wordless sound of rage and sent lightning flashing toward Tony. It grounded on Mjolnir instead. Lightning Strike yanked a lever and a bolt flew toward Steve and Clint who ducked behind the shield, unnecessarily. Thor didn't even gesture, but the lightning curved away from his friends and danced around Mjolnir's head instead.

Thor smirked. Tony smirked — sure, Lightning Strike couldn't see the smirk behind the faceplate but he sensed it all the same.

"Well, if I can't stop you, you can't stop me either!" the mad scientist pouted. Honestly, Steve expected to see him stick his tongue out at them.

He turned his back on them and resumed his inexorable march toward D.C.

"What …?" Tony started to ask Clint about Natasha, but the archer made the director's throat slitting gesture that meant, "Cut!"

"No comms," Clint said tersely, shutting his off. Cap followed suit and Tony raised his faceplate. Of course, Thor didn't have a comm because he'd come late to the party.

"Widow thinks Lightning Strikes Out is eavesdropping," Clint said.

"Electromagnetic spectrum, why not?" Tony muttered to himself. "Everyone's got the channel off. Widow, too?" he asked. Getting a reassuring nod from Clint, Tony went to work. With eye movements and a muttered word to JARVIS, who was always on a separate and secure channel, Tony poured feedback into the Avengers' comm channel that none of his friends were using. Lightning Strike clutched his ears in agony then threw something on the ground.

"What do you know? Widow was right," Tony smirked. "You know, I don't think this guy has lightning powers after all. He has gadgets, though. Lots of gadgets."

The others nodded.

"So, what's the plan?" Tony directed his question impartially to Cap and Hawkeye.

"We need to keep the forcefield in one place," Clint said. "It's only a dome. Widow's looking for a way under it."

She was playing the stealth card, one of her most winning hands, Tony thought. Maybe he could dig her a hole, he said aloud.

"But you can't be obvious about it," Cap pointed out. "We'll need a big distraction. Any way you can punch a hole through the forcefield?"

"Not at current power levels, sir," JARVIS reported in his ear. Tony dutifully relayed the information. "What about you, Point Break? You can attract lightning. Can you pull electricity out of the forcefield?"

Thor regarded the energized dome thoughtfully. "I can, but it renews itself constantly. I cannot make a hole, but perhaps a soft spot?"

Tony remembered his first meeting and battle with Thor. "Then pull the electricity out and put it in me. I need a recharge. Light me up, big guy!"

Thor made a beckoning gesture with Mjolnir. A spark jumped from the forcefield to the hammer and then a stream of lightning began to flow.

Lightning Strike jumped up and down, screaming in fury. His army halted, waiting for the next order.

Clint fired arrows as a distraction. One exploded against the forcefield right in front of Lightning Strike's face. As he covered his eyes against the flare of light, another arrow skittered off the dome and dove point first into the dirt. It blew a hole in the ground — by coincidence (not), this hole was right in front of Natasha, giving her a hole beneath the forcefield.

Thor aimed Mjolnir at Iron Man. Energy crackled around the suit. "Energy levels at 52 percent, 67 percent, 76 percent," Jarvis recited. "One hundred percent, 125 percent." The numbers continued to grow.

* * *

Natasha slithered under the rim of the forcefield dome, taking supreme care to not touch the pale yellow gleam.

As Jarvis' count reached 189 percent, Natasha leaped on Lightning Strike's back.

"Nap time," she announced and zapped him with her Widow's Bite bracelets.

The villain laughed. "You fool!" he roared. He raised his chin defiantly. "My suit makes me impervious to all electricity …"

Ignoring the ranting, Natasha slashed with her knife. Lightning Strike cried out as she drew blood, but the purpose wasn't to slice his throat, it was to open a gap in his suit. Natasha jabbed her Widow's Bite against the flesh just under his jaw and shocked him again.

Mr. Impervious' eyes crossed and he toppled backwards, stiff as a felled tree.

The robots looked at their fallen leader, then all their eyes turned on Black Widow — and those eyes began to glow!

"No! Tasha! We've got to get in there!" Hawkeye shouted as electroblasts shot from the robots' eyes.

Black Widow flipped and dodged, moving faster than the clunky repair droids could follow, but she couldn't keep it up forever. There were too many robots. Their blasts began to press her back toward the forcefield, which would annihilate her.

"Sooner would be better than later, boys!" she called.

"Suit power at 212 percent. Forcefield integrity at 39 percent," Jarvis reported.

"That'll have to do," Tony said, as he launched Iron Man at the weakened spot of the dome.

* * *

The Avengers threw up their arms to protect their eyes as a sun-bright blaze of light obliterated their vision. It confused the electrodroids momentarily, long enough for Iron Man to plant himself between the Widow and her enemies.

The robots' energy blasts focused on Iron Man. The suit continued to absorb the power but it was already supercharged.

"Approaching overload," Jarvis warned.

Tony would have liked to snatch Natasha to safety, but now his suit was white hot and pulsing with energy. Now he was as dangerous to her as the robots, and the energy bolts kept coming.

Then Mjolnir crashed through the weakened dome and crushed the tank. The dome flickered and faded. A red, white and blue shield sheered half a dozen electrodroids in half, before rebounding off the tank remains and returning to Captain America's hands. At the same time, explosive arrows made holes in the ranks of the robot army.

When his hammer returned to his hand, Thor threw it again, scything down the row of robots closest to his friends. Then Cap was racing among the scattered remains of the army, smashing them down with his shield.

The head of the last robot exploded, courtesy of one of Hawkeye's arrows. Victory belonged to the Avengers, but they didn't have a moment to celebrate.

* * *

The Iron Man suit was pulsing with power too strong to be contained.

"Overload in 16 seconds," Jarvis reported.

"The suit's going to blow," Tony said. "I'll get as far away as I can."

"Fear not," Thor said calmly, before Iron Man could launch into the air. The thunder god placed the hand holding Mjolnir on Iron Man's shoulder. Electricity crackled around the hammer's hilt seeming not to affect the hand that was holding it. The frightening aura faded from around Iron Man. Lightning leaped to the heavens. Clouds boiled, flashing eerily, and then, with a deafening crack of thunder, rain began to pour down. Tony's suit began to cool to safe levels.

"Thanks, big guy," Tony said in relief.

The heroes were getting drenched. The torn-up field was turning to mud. But no one minded. The cool rain actually felt good after the heat of battle.

"The God of Thunder has little to fear from lightning," Thor pointed out.

"Didn't I hear that Dr. Foster's assistant — Darcy, is it? — Didn't I hear that she tasered you?" Natasha asked Thor.

"Yes. The irony is not lost on me," Thor replied. "Laid low by a weapon of electricity. But that was when the All Father had punished me by taking away my powers, leaving me little more than a mortal." His eyes twinkled to show his mortal friends he was teasing.

"We're glad that you have your powers back," Cap said, clapping a hand on Tony's metal-clad shoulder. "Things would be too quiet without Tony around."

"Hey!"

"Yeah, the Iron Man sacrifices himself ploy is getting to be a cliché. You need some new material, Stark," Clint said affectionately.

"Talk to the screenwriter," Tony threw back.

* * *

 _A/N: OMG, I can't believe I finally finished this story. This was the third Avengers story I started, after A Very Good Team (chapter 1) and The Girl He Left Behind. It was, rather obviously, inspired by the first movie's battle scene between Iron Man and Thor. I started it in July 2012, and got stuck because the villain didn't want to cooperate. (That villain!) Mad or not, his march on D.C. didn't make sense. But then, after Winter Soldier and Ultron, I thought of this story again in light of Hydra and my In Between Time series. Suddenly, it seemed to work. I'm so relieved. I hated to waste all the witty battle chatter._


	5. Language!

_A/N: When Steve Rogers went to war, there was a lady in his unit, so the men watched their language more than most soldiers would. Still, Steve has been known to use strong words in the heat of battle ("Light the bastards up."), so why_ _did_ _he say "language" during the first battle in Sokovia? Obviously, because he'd been hanging around Tony Stark too much. Takes place before Ch. 4.  
Warning for, well, language!_

* * *

 **Language!**

"No, ma'am," Clint Barton said firmly. "I will not be the 'face of the Avengers.' I'm a secret agent, emphasis on the 'secret.' It's not like we want to put all our information out on the Internet for everyone to see!"

Natasha Romanoff slugged her partner hard in the arm.

"Ow! Ow! Watch the bow arm!" Clint complained, laughing.

"What about you, Natasha?" Pepper asked, though she already knew the answer.

"I'm already the face of the fall of SHIELD," Natasha said. "You don't want me to be the face of the Avengers."

Pepper's thoughtful gaze passed to Sam Wilson, who was used to talking to groups. But he held up his hands in a "stop" gesture. "Not an Avenger," he pointed out.

"That could be fixed," she suggested.

"No, I've got a job to do, since Cap needs to save the world again."

Clint cleared his voice ostentatiously.

"Needs to help save the world again," Sam amended agreeably.

The Avengers hadn't been able to contact Bruce Banner or Thor yet, but Pepper didn't think either man would be the best candidate for public speaking; so, at last, her gaze went to the obvious choices. All eyes turned to the two men. It was pretty funny to see Steve Rogers and Tony Stark wearing identical mutinous expressions.

"Face it, you knew it was going to come down to us," Tony muttered to Steve, who sighed.

"I thought I was done with performing on stage," Steve grumbled.

"I told you from the start that you were best qualified," Pepper reminded them.

"I thought I had real work to do," Tony grumbled back. "Like making body armor for everyone."

"Tony, this is important, too," Pepper insisted. "People are scared. Governments are scared. We need them all to believe that the Avengers are out to protect them. You can't go rampaging through other countries — or even ours — without public support."

Both Tony and Steve understood the value of PR. War bond sales went up in every town that Captain America's tour visited. Stark Industries' stock prices went up every time Tony gave a personal preview of a new product.

"We need people to trust the Avengers," Pepper said.

"Everybody trusts Cap," Sam said.

"I'd be willing to settle for just Steve," Pepper told Tony.

That brought out Tony's competitive nature. He flashed his paparazzi smile and straightened the collar of his grease-stained T-shirt, as if adjusting a necktie.

"What, and miss another rubber chicken dinner at the chamber of commerce? I wouldn't think of leaving Cap to suffer alone."

"Thanks, Tony, I appreciate your sacrifice," Steve said flatly.

"I hope you can look more enthusiastic than that," Pepper said doubtfully.

Steve dropped his head, took a deep breath, then aimed an engaging smile at Pepper. "I can't think of anything more important than selling the Avengers to the public." His honest blue eyes captivated Pepper's. "I'll be glad to help any way I can."

"I thought you said he couldn't lie!" Clint accused Natasha.

"This isn't lying. It's acting," Steve retorted.

"Acting is lying," Clint insisted. "I didn't know you could be dishonest."

"I'm always honest," Steve insisted. "And acting isn't lying if you believe in what you're selling. I believed in war bonds and I believe in the Avengers.'

"Then where does the acting come in," Pepper asked curiously.

"Pretending I'm happy to be onstage again."

* * *

While Steve and Tony set out on their PR tour, Clint and Natasha began mining data, searching for any clues to the whereabouts of Loki's scepter. Sam mined the experienced agents for tips about searches, then began his own hunt for signs of the Winter Soldier.

Tony and Steve just talked and shook hands and smiled until their cheeks ached.

* * *

At a veterans' reunion, Steve had a chance to reconnect with some colleagues from his days selling war bonds.

Tony came up behind him, snarling about a senator who was opposed to "costumed vigilantes" for any reason, though he also supported pay cuts for the military, police and firefighters.

"Who does that son of a bitch think is going to protect his ass?" Tony complained.

"Tony, please watch your language. There are ladies present," Steve chided in exasperation.

He stepped aside to show the mechanic the three old ladies standing behind him, each of them wearing a disapproving expression.

"Watch your mouth, sonny," snapped the tallest of the former showgirls. "Show some respect for your elders."

Tony apologized. The women nodded graciously and began to move away.

"He's right about Samuelson, though," the shortest woman said thoughtfully. "He is a …"

"Language, Emily," the middle woman warned sternly.

* * *

The meet-and-greet was crowded and the food was mediocre but the wine wasn't bad — until a drunk jostled Tony's arm and he found himself wearing the cabernet sauvignon.

"Shit!" he cursed.

"Language!" Cap snapped.

Looking up from his damp shirt, Tony met the eyes of a grinning toddler that Steve was holding while the boy's mother filmed the interaction with her iPhone.

Digitally immortalized, the toddler clapped his hands, laughed at the funny man in the wet, pink shirt, and crowed, "Shit. Shit! Shit! Shit!"

The mother looked daggers at Tony. Steve closed his eyes, seeking strength.

Tony palmed his face and then offered the young mother a substantial bribe to erase the video.

* * *

Though Steve and Tony didn't enjoy their PR mission, they did it to the best of their ability. They actually made a pretty good team, especially onstage or in front of the cameras.

Steve spoke with sincerity and undeniable dedication. When anyone raised a question that touched on sensitive information — anything Steve would have to lie about — Tony stepped in to deflect with his trademark snark.

"Captain, how many innocent people will have to pay for your 70-year-old crusade against Hydra?" demanded a reporter.

Steve's shoulders tensed, but Tony smoothly intercepted the question. "Crusade is such an ugly word, so 11th century and insulting to our Arab allies," he said, making the reporter look insensitive. "Being part Italian, I prefer the word 'vendetta,' and it fits so nicely with 'Avengers.' See, Cap has damned good personal reasons to hate Hydra. After all, the fuckers tried to kill him. They've killed people he knew and they planned to kill more. They planned to kill 2 million people to keep the rest of you in line."

He deliberately looked over his dark glasses at the reporter when he said "you," indicating that the reporter didn't have enough backbone to be on Hydra's kill list.

Tony continued, "But Cap doesn't fight Hydra for personal reasons. He fights them to protect the world, to save innocent people, to let people live in the freedom that his red, white and blue uniform represents. He's Captain fucking America. That's what he does.

"Now me, I have a personal vendetta against Hydra. They killed my parents and tried to kill me and just about everyone I care about. They took their shot and now it's time to pay the bastards back." He paused to make sure everyone had gotten the point. Satisfied, he said, "Next question?"

* * *

After the press conference finished, Steve thanked Tony for the save. "I was afraid they were going to ask about The Winter Soldier," he confessed.

"Yeah, I figured that."

"But you should watch your language," Steve added.

Tony was surprised. "Didn't know you were such a prude, old man."

"I can stand it," Steve said. "But you wasted your pretty speech. The networks won't run it with 'fucking' and 'bastards' in the middle of it."

"Steve's right, Tony. And you know it," Pepper said.

Tony shook his head when he realized he'd focused on the one reporter and forgot about the rest of the media.

"Sorry, Pep, it's been a hell of a day," he apologized.

"Language!" Pepper and Steve admonished.


	6. Missing

_A/N: When Tony mentions hearing from Bruce, that's referring to my story, Enemies List._

 **Missing**

The morning after their battle electric, the Avengers took over Tony's kitchen in the Tower. They were eating a hearty breakfast and discussing absent comrades.

"Now we just need to find Banner and our company will be complete," Thor said, as he took a second helping of ham and a third helping of scrambled eggs and fried potatoes.

"I heard from him after the Insight downfall," Tony said, punning deliberately. "I thought he was going to come here, but he hasn't, yet."

"Maybe he's run into trouble," Hawkeye suggested, then reconsidered. "No, we'd have heard," he said dryly. The Hulk always made news, though sometimes the media reported his actions as Bigfoot sightings or earthquake damage or terrorist attacks.

"Maybe he just doesn't trust us, after finding out half of SHIELD was Hydra," Natasha said sadly.

"Only 40 percent," Tony corrected absently, as he fiddled with his tablet.

"I can't believe you lost track of Banner, Stark," Clint jibed.

"Been busy," Tony pointed out. "But I can find him again. It will just take a little time."

"Forty-two minutes," Pepper said, as she entered the kitchen. She poured a cup of coffee, took a muffin, some fruit and a small helping of scrambled eggs. Her portion looked ridiculously small when she set her plate down in an empty space next to Steve's well-heaped platter.

"Forty-two what?" Tony asked blankly.

"Forty-two minutes." The businesswoman glanced at her watch. "Forty now. Don't you ever check your calendar? I sent you two emails!"

Tony gaped at her, looking more like a halfwit than a genius.

Steve swallowed a mouthful of muffin, handed Pepper the butter and politely asked, "Emails about what?"

"At 9:30, Tony has an appointment with R.B. Banner," Pepper replied.

"Robert Bruce Banner," Natasha said in satisfaction.

"Are you sure it's Bruce?" Steve asked.

"Jarvis recognized the voice and gave Adele the green light to make the appointment," Pepper answered. "He said he wants to discuss a monster containment project."

Tony sighed and shook his head. "He still hasn't learned how to strut."

"You're missing the point, Tony," Steve said. "Bruce is going to be here in just over half an hour."

Tony nodded, then a devilish grin began to grow on his face. "Suit up! We've got an Avenger to recruit!"

The Avengers scattered, leaving half-filled plates and Pepper to finish her breakfast alone — in peace.

-av-

The Avengers were used to making quick changes when duty called. They reassembled in half an hour and silently filed through the back door of the conference room. Bruce Banner was already waiting in anteroom out front. Caught in the throes of inspiration, the scientist was scribbling on a legal pad — of paper. Paper was so much cheaper than computers when items were likely to be discarded in a moment of green rage.

Bruce didn't notice that the time for his appointment was past. To be honest, if he had noticed, he would have been surprised that Tony was only five minutes late when Adele indicated that Bruce could go in.

Bruce's eyes were still on his pad, when he entered the room, already talking.

"Tony, I think I've found a way to follow the other guy from orbit and confine him if he gets out of hand," the scientist said excitedly.

"But Brucie, we don't want to confine the Hulk. We might need him," Tony said.

Bruce looked up and his step faltered when he saw the Avengers arrayed around the conference table.

Tony sat at the head of the table, wearing his Iron Man armor without the face plate. He beamed happily at his Science Bro.

Bruce's eyes were then drawn to Thor, wholly incongruous in his armor relaxing back, knees crossed, in a straining, creaking executive chair.

Between Tony and Thor sat Captain America, upright and attentive. Steve wasn't wearing his cowl, but otherwise was in full regalia, with his shield hanging from the arm of his chair. He had a clipboard on the table in front of him and a welcoming smile on his face.

Bruce then turned to the people on the other side of the table. Hawkeye mirrored Thor, leaning back in his chair, but Clint's booted feet were on the conference table and his hands were behind his head. His quiver and bow were neatly placed in front of him.

Between Clint and Tony was not the Black Widow. Natasha had gone for a different look, to not spook Banner with reminders of their first meeting. Her red hair was tied up in a neat bun. She wore an A-line skirt, horn rim glasses and a long-sleeved white blouse buttoned u to a lacy collar. The image of a proper secretary, she sat primly, her hands folded over a steno pad on the table, but she winked at Bruce when his eyes met hers.

The Avengers were assembled to meet the monster, but Bruce wasn't worried. The heroes weren't threatening; they were welcoming.

"Hi, Doc," Clint said amiably.

Thor, the mighty Asgardian warrior, twiddled his fingers at Bruce in a gesture he'd picked up from Darcy Lewis.

Stunned, Bruce lifted his hand in a feeble return greeting.

Bruce knew about Hydra and the fall of SHIELD. He didn't know about Loki's scepter. But he was sure about one thing, the whole team wouldn't have come together if there weren't something to Avenge.

He took a deep breath and sat in the place left for him opposite Tony.

"So, what did I miss?"


	7. Taking Position

**Taking Position**

Former SHIELD Agent Maria Hill was sneaking up on Steve Rogers at Tony Stark's annual New Year's Eve party.

Well, not really.

She was sidling toward him, looking around with exaggerated caution that drew Steve's amused smile, as well as Bruce Banner's bemused gaze. Natasha Romanoff just smirked at her colleague.

Maria continued her charade, approaching Steve without looking directly at him, until he had to lift his beer out of her way. She backed up until her shoulder rubbed his chest.

"What are you up to?" Steve asked with laughter edging his voice.

"I'm taking position," Maria said seriously. "Two minutes to H Hour."

Natasha nodded approval, but the guys looked blank.

"I'm determined to not get caught by Stark," Maria told Natasha.

"I don't know why," Natasha said. "He has a reputation as a good kisser. Ten thousand floozies can't be wrong."

"Oh, the midnight kiss!" a suddenly enlightened Bruce told Steve.

Meanwhile, Maria was answering Natasha. "Oh, Stark's a decent kisser, but he's been drinking scotch and I hate the taste."

"And Pepper deserves first crack at him," Natasha suggested.

"That, too. She's the boss, no matter what Tony says."

"He usually says Steve's the boss," Bruce pointed out, just as Steve asked curiously, "When did you kiss Tony?"

"Undercover op a few years ago, before Afghanistan," Maria said shortly. "He caught me under the mistletoe."

"Doesn't sound like Tony," Bruce said. "Not these days, anyway."

"True," Maria confessed. "That was in Tony's pre 'I am Iron Man' days, when he thought it was OK to grab a waitress, spill her tray of champagne, drag her under the mistletoe and kiss her with breath tasting of scotch and cigars, while the whole crowd wolf-whistled. And then stuff three hundred dollar bills down her cleavage as an 'apology.'"

Steve put his hand on her shoulder in sympathy for what she had endured. "He doesn't do that kind of stuff any more," he reminded her.

"Pepper would kill him," Natasha seconded.

"I know, but I wouldn't want this similar situation to remind him of our 'encounter.' I wouldn't want to embarrass him and I wouldn't want him to realize how long SHIELD was keeping an eye on him. It would make things weird."

Steve coughed and Bruce raised an eyebrow, so she amended, "Weirder."

"Clint told me about that op," Natasha said. "He said you had the most peculiar expression on your face, trying to look pleased and not disgusted."

"Where is Barton, anyway?" Bruce said, scanning the crowd.

"He got a phone call." Natasha answered. "An old friend wanted to wish him Happy New Year."

"Not like he has anyone to kiss at midnight," Maria hinted, looking up at Steve.

Steve smirked at her. "So, to 'avoid' Tony, who you know will kiss Pepper at midnight, you decided to sidle over here."

"And take up position."

"Position?" Bruce asked.

"Position next to someone I'd rather kiss," Maria said plainly. She studied Steve's face thoughtfully. "How is he as a kisser?" she asked Natasha, as the countdown to midnight started.

"Not bad." Natasha shrugged. "He could use some practice."

"Practice!" Steve exclaimed in mock offense.

The countdown reached zero — midnight! Party horns sounded. Balloons dropped from the ceiling.

"I'm all for practice," Maria said and claimed Steve's lips.

Bruce watched bemused. It seemed to him that those two might have had a little previous practice, then he was surprised when two warm arms twined around his neck.

"Pucker up, Doc," Natasha ordered and kissed him.

The scientist realized the Black Widow had taken up position next to her mark, too. Then he kissed her back.

* * *

 _A/N: I know the Bruce/Natasha pairing wasn't universally beloved, but it is canon. Since this story takes place between Winter Soldier and Age of Ultron, I think this might be the first time Nat made a move on Bruce. There's no real evidence that Steve and Maria have dated, but she was wearing his jacket in AOU and I'd like to think Steve has had a few moments of happiness._


	8. Mistaken Identity

_A/N: This chapter takes place immediately after the first chapter, in case you want to refresh your memory._

* * *

 **Mistaken Identity**

"You won't torture me, captain," the Hydra agent sneered. "It's not your style."

Watching from outside the interrogation room, Sam rolled his eyes and Natasha actually snorted.

"All the Hydra goons say that," she said, making Sam snicker.

Inside the supposedly soundproofed interrogation room, Steve tilted a frown at the one-way glass.

"What's so funny?" Clint asked.

"That's what Sitwell told Rogers," Natasha answered.

Clint nodded, because he'd heard that story. "Then he had you push Sitwell off the roof."

"Are you going to take care of this guy, too?" Tony asked curiously.

"Steve doesn't need anyone's help," Sam said assuredly.

"What? Captain Perfect would condone torture?" Tony scoffed.

Sam gave the billionaire a look. Tony was pretty sure the new guy had no right to give Tony Stark a pitying look.

"Captain America wouldn't condone torture, but in case you hadn't noticed, that's not Cap," Sam said, gesturing at the blond Super Soldier, who was still wearing his jogging outfit with the Iron Man T-shirt and all. "That's Steve Rogers. He isn't America's hero, he's just a guy from Brooklyn who never backed down from a bully and who just found out his best friend was brainwashed and tortured by Hydra."

"Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky," Natasha quoted quietly.

Tony leaned against the wall, planting his shoulder firmly against the intercom button.

"So what you're saying, is that this Hydra schmuck thinks he's dealing with honorable, upright Captain America, but he's really facing Steve Rogers, a feisty little shit who never backed down from a fight and who got into brawls in every back alley in Brooklyn. Steve Rogers, who disobeyed a direct order, went AWOL and attacked a Hydra base singlehandedly to rescue his best friend. The same best friend, who was imprisoned, tortured and brainwashed by Hydra for nearly 70 years. Is that what you're saying?"

"Tony, I think you 'accidentally' turned on the intercom," Steve said from inside the interrogation room.

"Accidentally on purpose," Sam muttered.

"Sorry, not sorry," Tony said unrepentantly. "I just think a person, even a scummy Hydra goon, ought to know just how deep a pile of shit he's gotten into."

The Hydra agent heard the confident, gloating tone of Tony's voice and saw the icy resolve in Steve's blue eyes, as the Super Soldier absentmindedly massaged his knuckles.

"One thing Captain America and Steve Rogers have in common is that they … I mean, he … is a terrible liar," Tony continued.

"So if you believe him when he ways he'll do anything to find his friend … well, if you can believe him, then you should believe him, because he is a truthful man."

Steve cracked his knuckles meaningfully.

Hydra believed that order only came through pain, that truth only came through pain. Seeing pain in his future, the Hydra agent began to talk.

Tony released the intercom button and nodded at his fellow watchers. "And my job here is done," the genius said smugly.


	9. Cupid

_A/N: This takes place between Winter Soldier and Age of Ultron, and Valentine's Day was on Saturday in 2015._

* * *

 **Cupid**

"Steve, Clint and I got a tip from an informant that we need to check out," Natasha said. "Can we borrow a plane? Something small and inconspicuous?" She carried small overnight bag.

"You'll have to ask Tony," Steve answered. "Everything I control has a big A on the side."

Natasha looked a question at Tony who waved negligently, "Mi avion es su avion."

"Gracias, patron," Natasha answered. "We'll be back on Monday," she promised Steve.

"Is this something to do with Loki's scepter?" Steve asked.

"No, old business," Clint answered, coming into the room, stuffing a jacket into a flight bag. "Probably nothing, but we owe the source a chance to be heard."

"OK, be careful," Steve admonished.

"Yes, Mom," the two agents chorused, as they left the room together.

"Now, you remembered the bribes?" Natasha asked.

"Of course. In gold," Clint responded.

"Good."

* * *

When they were out of earshot, Tony said, "You know they're not going to talk to a snitch, don't you?"

"They aren't?" Steve didn't sound shocked or disbelieving, just mildly curious to learn Tony's thought process.

"This is Valentine's weekend, Rogers," Tony explained, as if to a rather dense foreigner who didn't speak the language. Tony flapped his hand in the direction the duo had taken. "They've flown off to bill and coo in Hawkeye's little love nest." He waggled his eyebrows lecherously, in a way that reminded Steve of Groucho Marx.

"Why would they lie about it, Tony?" Steve said mildly. "We don't have a non-fraternization policy in the Avengers. They can be together if they want."

"They lie because they're spies. It's in their nature," Tony replied.

"Leave them alone, Tony," Steve suggested. "You don't need to know."

"I always need to know," Tony countered. "Jarvis, track that plane," he ordered.

Steve shook his head. Personally, he thought Natasha's "informant" was Nick Fury, but Tony didn't know Fury was still alive. And he was safer not knowing.

And if Clint and Natasha were going for a romantic weekend, they deserved some privacy. Tony's suspicions weren't out of bounds, Steve admitted to himself. Natasha did wear that arrow necklace.

Turning his back to the billionaire, Steve sent a quick text warning Natasha that Tony was trying to track down Hawkeye's "love nest."

"Precautions already in place," was the reply.

Steve really should have known better. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he teased.

"Way to spoil a girl's fun, Rogers," came the reply text.

Steve chuckled to himself and put the phone away.

"What? What do you mean we lost the signal from the plane?!" Tony exclaimed to Jarvis. "It's my plane!"

* * *

Steve took the opportunity to leave the lab. If Tony was going to be preoccupied with Clint and Natasha, he wouldn't notice Steve and Maria sneaking out on a romantic date of their own. Steve didn't want to be teased about something that was so new and tentative. They were still more friends than lovers. Maria totally understood why he needed to spend some time with Peggy at the nursing home on Valentine's Day. So Maria deserved a nice lunch and a gift, probably chocolates. They definitely weren't at a jewelry stage, yet.

Making his plans, Steve headed for Maria's office.

"Hi, Pepper. Mind if I steal Maria for the rest of the day?" Steve asked, as Maria sat up with interest.

Pepper smiled at them. "You two go ahead. In fact, I will, too. It's Saturday and Valentine's Day. I don't know why we're working," she said decisively.

"Tony's in the lab trying to track Clint and Natasha to 'Hawkeye's love nest,'" Steve said ironically.

The women rolled their eyes. "I'll put a stop to that," Pepper said. "Tony has plans for today. At least, he told me he does."

She went off to claim her promised romantic weekend. Steve offered his arm to Maria and they headed off for their own excursion.

* * *

It took Clint and Natasha a little longer to get to the farm, particularly with the measures Natasha took to prevent being tracked or followed.

It was just getting dark when they walked up to the front door. Dressed in a nice suit, Clint carried a bouquet of roses and a jewelry box with a gold bracelet. His wife Laura met them at the door. She was dressed in a beautiful blue dress with a warm coat ready for the cold February night.

"Did you call?" Clint asked Natasha, who denied spoiling the surprise.

"I had faith, Clint Barton." Laura said. "The only time you failed to take me out to dinner on Valentine's Day was when you were in the hospital. Then Natasha warned me."

"I'm getting too predictable!" Clint pouted, then he laughed and presented his gifts. Laura expressed her delight with a kiss.

The adults heard the thunder of children's feet down the stairs as the kids caught on to their father's arrival.

"Are you sure you want to babysit?" Laura asked Natasha.

"I enjoy it," the spy said. She knelt down and spread her arms wide as Cooper and Lila barreled into her. "Like I always say, love is for children."

Clint and Laura drove into town for a lovely dinner at their favorite restaurant, and then a long drive looking at the stars and talking like two parents hardly ever had a chance to. They finished with a little necking at a secluded spot with a view of the town's lights, but they cut that short because of the cold.

Natasha played games with the kids. They particularly enjoyed hide and seek with Auntie Nat. They assembled homemade pizza. Laura had left all the ingredients ready. The kids just had to put on their toppings. Cooper piled his section high with cheese, sausage, bacon and tomatoes. Lila made a pretty design with bacon, tomatoes and green peppers. Natasha randomly sprinkled a little bit of everything on her part, then put cheese on top so she could surprise herself with every bite.

After dinner they played board games while watching a Disney movie. The kids were in bed by the time their parents got home. Natasha was sipping a cup of green tea and reading a mystery novel when the Bartons joined her in the living room.

* * *

They chatted amiably about the kids, the farm and eventually the Avengers. Laura enjoyed hearing stories about the super powered group.

"I hope I get to meet Captain America some day," she said.

Clint playfully scowled at her. "Talking about another man on Valentine's Day!" he chided.

Laura chuckled and poked her husband playfully. "I want to thank him for being such a good partner to Natasha." Clint nodded. "And he's dreamy," Laura added, teasing.

"He did save Nat's life," Clint agreed. "But she saved his, too."

Natasha laughed, a relaxed girlish giggle that Clint only ever heard at the farm.

"Yes, he saved me by covering me with his shield when a building fell on us. I saved him by kissing him on an escalator."

"Kissing? Really" Laura sat forward eagerly. "Is there something between you and the captain?"

"Nah, it was just a cover to protect us from the strike team looking for us. I try not to get involved with my partners," Natasha said, giving the couple a sly look. "It's too much like being at work all the time. Actually, Steve is seeing Maria Hill."

"He is?" Clint was surprised.

His wife shook her head. "That's Hawkeye. He can see a whorl in the fur of a mouse in the next field over, but he never notices office romances."

"I know. He didn't even notice I stopped trying to find Steve a date," Natasha said.

"I only snoop when I'm paid to," Clint said loftily. "So, did you give Maria the shovel talk?" he asked Nat.

"No. Maria won't hurt Steve. She's fond of him."

"Fond?"

"It's not a bad place to start," Natasha said, as an image of Bruce Banner crossed her mind. "Maybe they won't work out, but they won't hurt each other."

Hawkeye asked, "Do you think they're serious?" Because he liked them both and would hate to see a messy relationship damage the team.

"They're just getting started," Natasha opined. "Holding hands and having dinner. Just try to keep Stark from pestering them.

Natasha said she'd better go and leave the lovebirds ("lovehawks") to their Valentine's romance.

The Bartons exchanged a glance. "There's one more thing," Clint said.

Laura touched her abdomen. "We didn't want to say anything until after the first trimester, but we're expecting another baby."

Natasha's eyes had brightened at the word "trimester." She hugged her friends. "I'm so happy for you!" she said.

"Natasha, we want to name the baby after you," Clint said.

The agent was flabbergasted. There was so much blood on he hands, so much horror in her background, yet these good people had taken her in, treated her like a sister and now they wanted to name a baby after her.

She stammered thanks and wept a bit into Laura's shoulder when the other woman held her.

After Natasha recovered her aplomb, Laura went up to bed. Clint lingered for a moment.

"Thanks, Nat."

"For what? For babysitting?" she scoffed.

"For babysitting. For covering for me so I have a chance to see my wife once in awhile. For keeping our secret. For everything you do for us." He gave his partner a chaste kiss on the cheek. "I may have the bow, but you're our Cupid."

* * *

 _A/N: There will probably be a part 2 to this, since I started thinking about Steve and Maria's date._


	10. Cupid 2

_A/N: Part 2 of my Valentine's Day story. Next week, something entirely different. An angsty Civil War related story. According to fanfiction dot net, it will be my 100_ _th_ _story, which is bogus, considering my anthology A Very Good Team has more than 70 chapters, most of them individual stories, but it's my choice to write anthologies, because it makes the stories easier to find. But for now, Valentine's Day sweetness._

 **Cupid 2**

Maria Hill left Avengers Tower first. Steve Rogers stopped to pick up a Valentine's bouquet of white daisies and magenta English roses — an antique style of rose, less formal than the tight buds of hybrid teas. It looked like something he might have given Peggy in the 1940s, if he'd had the nerve. The arrangement came in its own pale green glass bowl, so no one would have to run and find a vase for it. Making sure he wasn't being followed, Steve left the building and met Maria at a heliport. Pepper had given her permission to use one of Stark's fastest helicopters to make the trip to D.C.

From the airport in D.C., they took a cab to the nursing home where Peggy Carter lived.

"I'll just wait in the lounge," Maria offered, thinking Steve would like to spend time alone with Peggy.

Steve gave her a peck on the cheek. "I appreciate the offer, but it's not necessary," he said. "She wants to meet you. I think she wants to tell you how to manage me," he said ruefully.

"I'd be glad to see Director Carter again,' Maria acquiesced. To Steve's questioning look, she replied, "We met once when I was a young agent. I doubt she would remember, even without …" She didn't need to say "without the Alzheimer's." "But if it's a bad day, I'll fade away, as if I was one of the staff," she suggested.

But the nurse told them it was a good day. The new medication was doing wonders for Peggy's short-term memory. "She remembered that you promised to come, captain, and that you were going to bring a friend." She gave Maria a bright, friendly smile.

Still, Maria lingered by the door, giving Steve a chance to greet his first love. It was sad to see the once vibrant woman faded and wrinkled and weak, but it comes to all of us, Maria thought. You either die young or get old. There's no other choice — well, unless you're Captain America.

"Steve!" Peggy greeted her friend. "You brought me flowers?"

"Hello, Peggy. Couldn't forget my best girl on Valentine's Day." He kissed her cheek then set the bowl on a table near the foot of her bed, where she would be able to see the bouquet without straining her neck.

Peggy smiled at the sentiment, but scolded, "That's no way to talk in front of your date. Please come in, dear. I don't bite, even though I still have all my teeth."

Steve introduced them as Maria joined him.

"I don't mind sharing Steve with you," Maria said. "There's enough to go around." She poked his muscular abs playfully. "Thank you for allowing me to visit, director."

"You may call me Peggy. My directing days are long past. I understand you were a director, too?"

"Assistant director," Maria amended. "And those days are past, too," she said ruefully. "Now I work for Stark Industries."

"Howard's company," Peggy identified, and then frowned at herself. "No, his son Tony's company now. He remembered me for Valentine's Day. Sent me a bottle of schnapps. My favorite. The doctor said I'll even be allowed a sip or two — if I'm good," she said dryly.

"That sounds like Tony," Steve laughed.

"Like Howard, too," Peggy agreed.

"Trust Tony to remember someone's favorite liquor," Maria said.

"I'd like the see Tony again," Peggy said wistfully. "I remember just flashes of him as a clever, but rather sad boy."

"I'll tell him," Steve promised.

Peggy was studying Maria's face. "I'm sorry to stare, dear, but I'm sure we've met before."

"Yes, ma'am, but only once."

"This new medication is helping my short-term memory, and I've always remembered the old things — like Steve," Peggy teased.

"Hey!" he protested good-naturedly.

Peggy continued, "But the middle years, the SHIELD years, are just blurry fragments." She bit her lip, thinking. Her memory was shot, but her deductive abilities were still tolerable. "Judging by your age, it must have been an awards ceremony," Peggy decided. "That's when they dragged out the old war horses."

"Yes, ma'am," Maria agreed.

"Medal of Valor, no doubt," Peggy continued, because that was the sort of woman Steve would appreciate. Maria blushed, but nodded.

Peggy frowned and finally shook her head. "No, it's all muddled. I have the oddest impression of bending down to talk to you, as if I were speaking to a child."

"I was in a wheelchair," Maria blurted, anxious to validate the old woman's scattered memories. "I was still recovering from the injuries I received on the mission. The doctors were still waffling about whether I would walk again without crutches, but you said you had no doubt that someone as stubborn and brave as I was would work hard until I was back in the field. I remembered your words every time the PT seemed too excruciating. I suppose you kept an eye on me, because the day I was cleared for duty, you sent me a note of congratulations — and a pistol."

Maria reached through the slit of her knee-length denim wrap skirt and pulled a semi-automatic pistol from her thigh holster. It was a long-nosed, World War II Luger, a chrome-plated special model with a cursive M engraved on the grip.

Steve caught his breath.

"I remember that," Peggy said decisively. "I don't remember giving it away, but I remember that pistol."

"So do I," Steve said fervently.

Maria offered it to him and he studied it carefully, before handing it back. "I didn't know you had that," he said.

"I don't usually carry it, because it's so identifiable, and because it was a special gift."

"Peggy got it on a mission," Steve said. "It was supposed to be a simple meeting with one of Peggy's informants from the French Resistance, but the man had been betrayed. The tavern was surrounded by a full company of German soldiers."

"Fortunately, they had been expecting to capture Resistance fighters, not the Howling Commandos and Captain America," Peggy said. "There was a massive gun battle that became a brawl when ammunition ran out and no one was given an opportunity to reload. When everyone else was fully engaged, the German captain saw me and decided I must be important, so he wanted to capture me."

"I could see the whole thing," Steve said. "But I had my hands full fighting six guys."

"Seven," Peggy corrected. "The German pulled his Luger, then set it on the bar, saying 'I don't need this to capture a pretty Fraulein like you.'"

"And Peggy said, 'So very kind of you,' in that cold English way that means just the opposite," Steve contributed. "And she attacked him. She kicked him back against the bar, then grabbed him in a headlock and flipped him over her body. Then she grabbed his Luger, but she didn't need it to shoot him, because his neck had been broken. Instead, she shot at me!"

"At you!" Maria exclaimed.

"And not for the first time," Peggy muttered to herself, with a twinkle in her eye. "Actually, this time I shot past him."

"She killed a Kraut who was about to plant an ax in my skull," Steve explained.

"I told you there were seven," Peggy reminded him. "You were always terrible about watching your back."

"In my defense, seeing you in action was pretty distracting," Steve answered.

"So naturally, I claimed the Luger as a war prize," Peggy told Maria.

"It had an embossed coat of arms on the grip," Steve told Maria. "Howard didn't like that. He stole the pistol, had the grip refinished and engraved with that M for Margaret."

"And then I was afraid to fire it for a week," Peggy complained. "I was afraid Howard had tinkered with it so it would explode or fire backwards or some other nonsense."

"He finally had to shoot it himself to prove he hadn't changed anything except the decoration," Steve finished.

Maria was fascinated to hear the history of her pistol. In return, she told Steve the bare outlines of the mission where she had rescued six hostages, despite injuries to one leg that left her unable to walk.

"I couldn't stand, but I could still drive," she said.

Left for dead, she crawled into the cab of a Humvee and used it to run the enemy jeeps off the road. "A car is considered a deadly weapon by police," she said. "I used mine to run down the enemy, which gave the hostages a change to turn on their captors. Then they jumped in the Humvee and we floored it. A clean getaway," she said, leaving out details of the pain involved in driving the bouncing, jolting Humvee. But Steve and Peggy could imagine the details.

Peggy asked about their plans for the day, then wondered why they had to sneak away from Stark.

"Would the teasing be so bad?"

"It would be bad enough," Steve said. "It would make it hard for Maria to work with the Avengers, if Tony kept bringing up our relationship."

"And then he'd want to manage us," Maria said. "He really is a romantic at heart. He'd make suggestions for romantic weekends. Tahiti for two, it's a magical place," Maria said with a dryness that Steve didn't quite understand. Maybe she didn't like Tahiti. "He'd push us to do more than we were ready for and I'm afraid he'd push us apart," Maria finished.

Peggy nodded. "I think I understand. Stark's seem to be happy in the spotlight. Howard had no boundaries when it came to romance, no problem starting a movie company just for the starlets and 'production assistants' it attracted. You two are more private people. You deserve to have privacy while you figure things out."

"Pepper knows. She understands because she's Tony's significant other as well as the CEO of Stark Industries. Technically she's my employer, though I coordinate for the Avengers most of the time," Maria explained.

"I'm pretty sure Natasha knows, too," Steve said.

"Really?" Maria asked.

"She's stopped trying to set up dates for me."

"Oh. She hasn't said anything … yet. Well, if she knows, I wouldn't be surprised if Clint knows. But I'm pretty sure they'll keep my secrets. I know enough of theirs," Maria said. "Sorry, Steve, but we are never going to be one of those couples who tell each other everything and have no secrets from each other." She thought about Clint's family and Coulson's survival as she said that.

Steve laughed. "I didn't expect that. I'm not sure I believe there are any couples like that, anyway. People lie."

"Surprisingly cynical for Captain America," Peggy said primly.

"I've been through a lot since I woke up," Steve said sadly.

They chatted for a bit longer, and Maria coaxed the old woman to tell about the time she shot at Steve.

"Boy, was I glad the shield worked," Steve said fervently.

Eventually Peggy admitted she was getting tired. "You'd better go before I spoil this lovely day by forgetting you both," she sighed. "Thank you for the flowers, Steve. They're beautiful."

They exchanged kisses and goodbyes, then Peggy asked for a moment with Maria.

"Take care of him, dear," Peggy told the younger woman. "No matter how strong he looks, he can be surprisingly fragile."

"I understand," Maria said quietly. "I'll look after him." She offered a handshake as a promise.

Steve and Maria left. They walked for a while in silence, then Steve plunked down on a park bench. "It's always hard," he apologized.

Maria leaned her cheek against his shoulder.

"I haven't told you that I was engaged once," she said. "His name was Rene. He was an agent, but he wasn't afraid of Maria 'Chill,' which was nice. We liked the same music and the same awful cop movies. When we dumped all SHIELD's secrets on the Internet, I found out he was Hydra."

"Maria!"

"He never had a chance to betray me," Maria assured him. "He died bravely, heroically even, on a rescue mission in the Sudan. I found a letter of condolence from Pierce to another Hydra commander, John Garrett, commenting on the loss of one of Hydra's best. I have to wonder, did Rene really care about me, or was he just getting close, so he could assassinate me. If I'd died, Jasper Sitwell would have been next in line to take the assistant director position."

"I'm sorry," Steve said.

"So am I, but he died five years ago, so it didn't hurt as much as it would have if he'd still been alive. So, we all have regrets, Steve. You don't have to be sorry that you still feel for Peggy. I think it's beautiful."

They sat deep in thought for a few minutes more, then Steve heaved himself off the bench. "Come on, I promised you a lavish Valentine's lunch. Pepper recommended the perfect place."

When Steve said lavish, he meant every word. They started with a big plate of appetizers. Maria took one of everything (two of the mushrooms and three of the shrimp), then a luscious salad. For her entry, Maria chose silky chicken Alfredo over perfectly cooked fettuccini. Steve picked the biggest steak on the menu with a red wine and mushroom sauce. That was as much wine as they had, because Maria was flying and Steve thought it was rude to drink when she couldn't. They traded bites of food, grinning at each other like kids, while they took bits off each other's forks. Maria leaned over once to kiss wine sauce off Steve's lips. He reacted by kissing Alfredo sauce off hers.

They dawdled over the last scraps, considering the merits of the dessert list.

Outside, the clouds shifted away, letting bright sun reflect through the front window to hit Steve right in the face. He squinted into the sudden brightness.

Maria chuckled and said, "I'll ask them to draw the blinds."

She looked toward the offending window, which was next to the front door. Her eyes widened and, with a yip of alarm, she dropped beneath the table. Steve was reminded of a documentary he'd seen about prairie dogs.

He looked to see what had alarmed his date, just as Tony Stark and Pepper Potts came through the door.

The waiter deferentially guided the billionaire and his Valentine's date toward a private room on the opposite side of the restaurant. Steve might have gone unnoticed, except for the sunbeam that spotlighted him. Pepper saw the soldier first and tried to distract Tony's attention, but he'd seen Steve, too. Pepper slapped her forehead in frustration, but Tony didn't notice as he made a beeline toward Steve. The Super Soldier ran a frantic glance across his table. Tony would never, ever stop teasing them if he found Maria cowering under the table.

Steve decided the only thing he couldn't explain was the trace of lipstick on Maria's coffee cup. Without hesitation he picked up the cup and sipped the cold coffee, wiping away the lipstick with his own lips, then he dabbed his mouth with his napkin before greeting his friends.

"Tony, Pepper. I didn't expect to see you in D.C. today."

"Same here," Tony answered.

"This was my Valentine's surprise," Pepper said, with an apologetic grimace behind Tony's back. "Tony brought me to see a new exhibit at the National Gallery of Art — paintings from the Romantic Era."

Distracted, Tony made a face. "And they weren't romantic at all!"

Art lovers Pepper and Steve shared a smile. "No," Steve agreed. "Big landscapes and heroic military actions."

"One was about a massacre, Steve. A massacre!" Tony said in aggravation. "What's romantic about that?"

"It's all right, Tony," Pepper consoled him. "You know I love art museums and the landscapes were lovely."

"Some of them were huge," Tony remembered. "I liked that one of the stormy sky."

"And now we'll have a nice, romantic lunch at my favorite restaurant," Pepper said, trying to draw Tony away. "With no stormy skies."

Tony refused to be drawn. "But I haven't asked Steve what he's doing here," Tony argued. "My spies tell me you left the Tower with a Valentine's bouquet. Now I find you at a romantic restaurant. Where's your date?" Tony craned his neck in the direction of the ladies room.

"The flowers were for Peggy," Steve said with undeniably honest sadness. "Then I walked for a long time until I got hungry. I remembered Pepper mentioning this restaurant and I figured I deserved a treat."

Tony eyed the table with diminishing skepticism. There was a lot of food, but Steve could easily eat a steak and a plate of chicken pasta by himself. Steve was glad that the waiter had cleared away the appetizer platter that he had demolished.

Pepper moved past Tony, toeing Maria's purse farther under the table. A hand snaked out to pull the purse deeper into concealment.

Pepper gave Steve a hug. "Eating to drown your sorrows?" she said sympathetically. "I'm sorry that you have to spend Valentine's Day that way. But I guess it won't hurt you," she added, patting a muscular arm.

"Tony scratched his head in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Steve."

"It's OK. I know you just want to see me get back in the game," Steve said. "Peggy would like to see you sometime, Tony," he passed on the old woman's message. "But she did like the schnapps."

"I hope they let her drink some," Tony said. "I promise, I'll go soon, but it's hard when she calls me Howard half the time."

"I know."

"We'd better go, Tony, before the restaurant gives our table away," Pepper said, claiming Tony's arm. "Try the mousse cake for dessert, Steve," she said over her shoulder. "It will make any day brighter."

As soon as Tony and Pepper disappeared into the private room, Steve gestured to the hovering waiter. "Bring the check and a piece of mousse cake to go, please," he said, as Maria resumed her seat, patting her disheveled hair back into place.

"Double tip to not say anything to Mr. Stark about Steve having a date," Maria said.

"That's not necessary, miss," the waiter protested.

"You can share the tip with everyone else," Maria suggested. "I don't want Steve teased because he's dating Pepper's assistant."

Everyone knew Tony liked to tease and it did get old.

The couple paid quickly and left with their dessert. They walked briskly until they were two streets away, then they went to the National Mall where Steve spread his jacket under the tree where he'd first met Sam. They ate their cake and told each other funny stories about their lives, eventually turning back to their Valentine's Day adventures.

Steve shook his head, chuckling. "I can't believe Tony Stark showed up at the same restaurant today."

"We're in a rom com," Maria said ironically. "High drama and low comedy."

"Sorry. That's the story of my life. You didn't know what you were getting into."

"You're worth it," Maria said.

"Well, Cap…"

Maria gripped his chin and turned his face toward her. "Not Cap. Steve Rogers is worth it." She gave an impish smile and poked his abs. "Cap is just gravy."


	11. Easter Sunrise

_A/N: Just a little something for the holiday while I try to get a longer story finished. Happy Easter to those who celebrate and happy Sunday to everyone else._

* * *

 **Easter Sunrise**

It wasn't much of a sacrifice for Steve Rogers to get up for an Easter sunrise service. It wasn't much earlier than he usually rose for his morning run.

He ate a quick breakfast quietly, careful not to wake up Sam Wilson, who was snoring softly in the guest room. Sam had been traveling nearly 20 hours, with delays for bad weather and engine trouble. He'd staggered in barely two hours ago. When Steve glanced in on him, he saw his friend had only removed his boots before collapsing face first on the bed.

Steve resigned himself to going alone. He usually went to church alone. The rest of his hardworking friends looked forward to sleeping in on Sundays, but Steve couldn't bring himself to do that if he wasn't on a mission. Especially not Easter Sunday.

So Steve was the odd man out. Well, he was used to that.

Everyone was still asleep when Steve left the Tower and drove his motorcycle to the location overlooking New York Harbor.

He joined the crowd of sleepy celebrants shuffling through the predawn gloom. He had chosen a nondenominational service for this Easter. He took a seat on a bench, but soon gave his space up to an elderly couple. Steve joined the standing-room-only crowd at back. Seemed like a lot of people had heard this would be a beautiful and uplifting service.

Raised a Catholic, Steve found the church had changed little from when he was a child. This was comforting sometimes, but also made him feel a little uncomfortable, considering how far the country had moved in regards to racial, sexual and gender equality (not that it didn't have a ways to go still). But so many of the "traditional" churches — not just Catholic — seemed stuck back in the past. (A feeling Steve knew well.)

* * *

Thinking of the past caused Steve's mind to wander there. He remembered one "religious" discussion with the Howling Commandos. In a rare moment of leisure, the guys were relaxing, each of them reading a page from the same newspaper shared among them.

Monty Falsworth humphed. "Captain America and the motley crew called the Howling Commandos," he read. "'Motley,' that's a bit unkind," the Brit said.

"Not inaccurate, though," Bucky Barnes commented, gesturing at their scuffed and mud-stained clothes.

"It's very accurate," replied Gabe Jones, the college man, as he studied a well-worn pocket dictionary that he used for coding messages. "It doesn't mean 'scruffy.' It means made up of many colors, 'composed of diverse, often incongruous elements.'" As Gabe quickly translated for Jacques, Jim Morita laughed.

"Diverse and incongruous, that sums us up," he agreed, studying the multiracial team.

"And many colors," the black man agreed.

"Like Joseph's coat in the Bible," Steve said, with a twinkle in his eyes that made his old pal Bucky wary. "Captain America and his team of many colors."

Dum-Dum Dugan started to agree, then paused. "Wait, didn't Joseph's coat get him a lot of trouble," he said suspiciously.

"Exactly like the Howling Commandos," Steve said. The grinning captain sat back to enjoy the furious rebuttal from all the members of his team.

* * *

Steve's memories were interrupted by a tug on his sleeve. A young Hispanic girl about 8 was holding up a daisy, obviously taken from the bunch that decorated the pale blue straw hat that matched her adorable Easter dress.

"Happy Easter, sir," she said with a smile.

Steve took the flower. "Thank you, miss," he said gravely, then tucked it into his lapel.

"You reminded me of my father," the girl said. "He's a soldier, too."

Steve realized he'd given himself away by standing at parade rest. He snorted at himself and took a more relaxed, civilian stance. "Is he here?" Steve asked, looking around.

"No, he's in Afghanistan," the child said. "He's supposed to be home this summer. I'm here with my Mom and my little brother."

She pointed. Through the gathering crowd, Steve saw a woman holding a sleepy toddler. She waved shyly from her protected spot next to a lamppost.

"I'd better walk you back," Steve said. "The crowd is getting pretty heavy." He didn't want the child to get stepped on by some half-asleep worshiper. He wondered if the organizers had expected quite this many people. The tall, broad-shouldered soldier had no trouble forging a path through the mass of people.

"Thank you?' the mother said, as Steve delivered her daughter safely. "Brianna thought you looked lonely all by yourself."

"Didn't you have any friends to come with you?" Brianna asked.

"One of my friends was going to come, but he only got home about three hours ago. His 10-hour flight turned into 20 hours. He was so tired, I'd have had to carry him here."

The girl giggled at the notion. "Like Mom carrying Justin," she said.

The little boy was only just beginning to rub his eyes and look around curiously. Just in time, as a trumpet fanfare heralded the arrival of the choir. Brianna craned her neck, disappointed that all she could see were the tops of heads. It would be OK when everyone got to the stage, but she couldn't see the procession.

Steve offered to lift her up, which she accepted eagerly. When Steve had Brianna settled on his shoulders, Justin held out his hands and begged, "Up!" Steve laughed and gathered the boy into his arms, a relief for the slender mother.

The children enjoyed the spectacle, the music and the banners and the people in their robes. As everyone took their places on the stage, the woman minster stepped forward to greet the congregation.

The man standing next to Steve groaned. "You didn't tell me the preacher was a woman," he complained to his wife.

"Just be patient," the woman said. "Then we can go to Mass and Father O'Callaghan can absolve you from hearing a woman preach."

Steve heard sarcasm in the woman's voice, but her husband nodded as if relieved by her words.

As the minister began her homily, the man muttered to Steve, "I agree with Samuel Johnson,a woman's preaching is like a dog's walking on his hind legs. It is not done well; but you are surprised to find it done at all."

The man smirked at his cleverness. Steve thought of all the capable, intelligent women he knew and shook his head.

"Women were the first believers, you know," Steve replied. "Mary, Elizabeth ... After the crucifixion, when the apostles went and hid, it was the women who went to the tomb to claim the body. They were the first to observe the miracle and the first to believe it. Who better to preach about the open tomb than a woman?"

The man gave Steve a disgusted look and moved to the other side of his wife, but she gave Steve a smile and the little girl on Steve's shoulders offered him a hand for a high five.

The minister's homily was "What Are You Hunting For?" She compared a child's hunt for Easter eggs and candy to the Christian's search for meaning in life. Childhood teachings, such as sharing and playing nice with other kids, are relevant lessons no matter how old we get, she said. When we find God, we find ourselves. That is the purpose of the greatest Easter hunt of all.

She kept the message short and let the beautiful music of the gospel choir carry the service as the sun began to rise. The morning fog turned golden and then burned away, leaving the congregation with a breathtaking view of dawn over the harbor, as the music soared along with the sun.

* * *

The congregation joined the choir singing "Christ the Lord is risen today, alleluia." Standing shoulder to shoulder with the others, lifting his voice along with them, Steve felt connected to these people and this time as he sometimes didn't. He felt the continuity of his drive to help others in the 1940s and the 2010s. He felt the unity between his friends in the Howling Commandos and his friends today in the Avengers.

Saying goodbye and happy Easter to the young family, Steve left the service feeling renewed and refreshed. He headed back to the Tower to fix breakfast for the Avengers — his diverse and incongruous family.


	12. Easter Morning

_Note: This takes place between CA: TWS and Age of Ultron, so this is Easter 2015._

 **Easter Morning**

"Yo, captain! Private Lewis reporting for duty!" the girl barked cheerfully, as she entered the Avengers' communal kitchen early Easter Sunday morning.

Steve Rogers chuckled, and returned Darcy's salute smartly. "You're looking well turned out, soldier."

Darcy twirled, showing off her Easter finery, bright pink capris, a loose white T-shirt showing an adorable rabbit and the words "some Bunny Loves You," that went nicely with her pink and white bunny slippers. She had twists of multicolored gift wrap ribbon clipped to her dark hair with bobby pins. When she twirled, her dark curls and the ribbon curls bounced happily.

"You're looking spiffy yourself, Cap," Darcy answered, admiring the dress slacks and open-necked blue shirt that Steve had worn to the Easter sunrise service. It wasn't the clothes themselves that Darcy admired so much as the way the superhero filled them out.

"What have I said about that, Darcy?" Steve chided.

"No Cap when you're off the clock," Darcy answered. "Sorry, Steve, but it's just so cool to be talking to Captain America."

Steve just shook his head in amusement. Darcy got down to business, asking what she could do to help.

* * *

When Jane Foster's mother asked her and Thor to come for Easter, Darcy decided not to go along. When Steve heard she was going to be alone, he invited her to spend the holiday at the Tower. She said she was fine, but he insisted he needed her help with a secret Easter project.

He wasn't lying — not that she expected Captain America to lie. They'd spent most of Saturday closeted in Steve's art studio making Easter decorations. Since returning from the sunrise service, Steve had busied himself getting decorations out. He'd accomplished the most important mission before Darcy arrived. The French doors into the Assembly Room were closed, with caution tape across them warning people to keep out.

Darcy eyed the closed doors curiously, but set to work decorating the kitchen, lining up a bunch of small Easter baskets on the counter and fastening large construction paper butterflies and flowers to the walls.

Then she helped Steve get breakfast started. Waffle batter was mixed with toppings set out including fruits and berries, chocolate chips and nuts, butter, syrups and whipped cream.

Muffins were piled in a basket and a scrambled egg casserole was cooking. When Darcy put a sheet tray of bacon in the oven, the smell joined the scent of coffee to make a mouthwatering fragrance.

"Is it time, Captain Rogers?" Jarvis asked.

"Yes, please."

Darcy heard a fan start in the oven. She sent Steve a questioning look. He grinned.

"Jarvis is sending the smell of bacon and coffee through the ventilation system."

Darcy laughed. "That's a wake-up call I can get behind."

* * *

First to the kitchen were Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton. The former SHIELD agents were dressed in their uniforms, ready to go sparring after breakfast. Darcy shook her head at them.

"Worst Easter outfits ever!" she opined.

"I knew you should have worn the pink catsuit, Nat," Clint exclaimed. He got an elbow in the ribs for his joke, but that just made him smile.

Natasha had planned a morning of sparring to distract Clint from the fact that he wasn't home with his kids for Easter. (Though he'd spent nearly two hours on the phone with his family the night before.) But Cap's holiday surprise was a nice distraction, too.

"Please, Nat, can we stay for waffles. Pleeeease?" Clint hammed it up.

"Very well," she said graciously, sliding onto a chair. "Then double training afterward."

Clint seemed to think deeply about the trade off. "Done," he decided and sat at the table. "Two waffles, please, Steve."

"Wait until everyone gets here, Clint."

The archer frowned. "How long will that be?"

The Super Soldier cocked his enhanced ears toward the door. "Three, two, one!" Steve counted down.

"Coffee! I smell coffee!" Tony Stark groaned.

"Yes, Tony, we all smell coffee," Pepper Potts said fondly.

"And bacon," Bruce Banner added. Bruce ate a lot of vegetarian dishes, but bacon was his weakness.

"And why's the door locked?" Tony asked. "It's never locked." Coming from the elevator, he and Pepper and Bruce usually walked through the Assembly Room to get to the kitchen. Steve, Natasha and Clint — always in training — usually came through the hall door from the stairs.

"Jarvis, why's the door locked?" Tony demanded as his group walked down the hall to the other door.

"You will see in just a moment, sir," Jarvis replied, playing along with Steve's surprise.

"Happy Easter!" Steve, Darcy, Clint and Natasha chorused, when the others entered the kitchen.

"Easter?" Tony said. "But it's not even April yet — is it?"

"Yes, Tony, since Tuesday," Pepper said calmly. "Thank you, Steve, Darcy. This is a beautiful surprise."

Pepper was the only one dressed for Easter, with spring green slacks and a flowered blouse. Her feet were bare and her hair was pulled back in a casual ponytail that befitted a casual Sunday morning.

Bruce was dressed for the lab, in neat slacks and a shirt, much like Steve's, but in shades of beige and tan. Tony wore jeans and a faded red T-shirt from some band only Darcy had heard of.

"You're looking very Eastery, Stark," Natasha smirked.

He looked down at his T-shirt and realized the color had faded so much it was more pink than red. It even had a rabbit on it, though admittedly, it was a rabbit with fangs and a pirate's eye patch. He raised an eyebrow at Pepper. "You planned this," he accused, smiling.

"Maybe." She handed him a huge mug of coffee, which he accepted in lieu of an apology.

"OK, now that we're all here, can we eat now?" Clint begged.

"Not so fast, I have a guest," Steve said.

Everyone looked puzzled, but Natasha sat up with interest. "Wilson back in town?"

"Yes, but he didn't get in until 2 a.m. I don't want to wake him up if he's still asleep."

"Pardon me, captain, but Mr. Wilson is awake and performing his morning ablutions," Jarvis reported.

"That means he's in the bathroom," Clint said wisely.

"Thank you, Clint," Bruce, the certified genius, said dryly.

"You're welcome," Clint said graciously. "Anytime I can help."

Natasha shook her head at how silly Clint was being. She saw he was channeling his daddyness. This was just how he'd been on the phone with his kids. She was glad to see it. She'd been afraid he'd be grumpy, missing his wife and kids.

Steve also was glad his friends were joining in the holiday fun. He had Jarvis put him through to Sam and invited his friend to join them for breakfast.

"'Join us,' you mean the Avengers?" He maybe sounded a little excited.

"Yes, and they can hear you," Steve answered.

"Get your butt down here, Wilson," Natasha ordered.

"Yes, ma'am!" The Avengers could hear the salute over the intercom.

* * *

Sam clattered down the stairs, following Jarvis' directions. He was grinning. He'd had a conversation with a computer and now he was going to have breakfast with the Avengers. And he wasn't on a dratted airplane any more. Life couldn't get any better.

But his smile disappeared when he saw all the Easter decorations.

"It's Easter?" he asked in dismay. "Man, I lost track of the days. I'm sorry."

Steve squeezed his friend's shoulder. "It's all right, Sam. I understand. I saw what time you got in this morning. I was fine going to church by myself. Come on, have some breakfast. Let me introduce you. Who haven't you met, yet?"

Sam's eyes met those of the person he knew best next to Steve. "Hey you," he greeted Natasha.

"Wilson," Natasha replied, smiling.

"I don't know the other pretty ladies," Sam told Steve, who obligingly introduced Pepper and Darcy.

Then Sam cocked his head at Bruce. "You must be Bruce Banner," he guessed. He extended his hand without the hesitation that most people showed when meeting the man they knew was also the Hulk. Bruce appreciated the consideration.

Sam also didn't offer his hand to Stark, but gladly shook when the billionaire reached out first. "Nice to see you again, Mr. Stark," Sam said.

Tony made a face and took a deep gulp of his coffee. "Just Tony. 'Mr. Stark' was my old man, and I didn't get along with my old man."

"Noted." Sam turned to the last person, but Clint forestalled his greeting by throwing his arms around the airman.

"I can never say thank you enough for saving my partner," Clint said.

"My partner," Steve corrected.

"Easy, boys, there's enough of me to go around," Natasha said, giving Bruce a wink that made him blink in surprise.

She passed Sam on the way to get a refill of coffee. "Don't let him fool you, Wilson," she confided. "He's just happy you're here because now we can eat."

"That, too!" Clint agreed, releasing Sam from his embrace.

"It's too early for all this manly affection," Tony grumbled for show, as he drained his first cup of coffee and poured another.

"Did you do all this, this morning?" Sam asked Steve.

"Darcy helped, with the planning and, this morning, helped me with the decorating and the cooking," Steve said. "We can always count on Darcy."

The usually brash, self-confident young woman blushed at such praise from the legendary Captain America.

"Um, thanks, uh, nice to meet you," she stammered, flustered. Then recovering herself, she brightly offered a diversion, "Let's eat!"

She rattled off the menu: waffles, muffins, scrambled eggs and fruit, with a variety of toppings to go on top of whatever they wanted. "Though scrambled eggs might be the one thing I wouldn't put chocolate chips on," she finished. "Now, who wants waffles?"

Hands shot into the air. Tony cursed as his well-filled cup slopped onto his hand. To soothe him, Steve gave him the first waffle. Then he gave the second to Clint to stop his pouting.

Almost everyone had waffles piled high with toppings, with a side of eggs and bacon. Even the abstemious Bruce indulged at this holiday breakfast, putting several pieces of bacon on his plate without apology (even to himself).

Natasha and Pepper took carrot-raisin muffins with a serving of fruit from the waffle bar. Their plates looked pretty healthy, until Clint dolloped a pile of whipped cream on Natasha's fruit and sprinkled it with chocolate chips and colorful candy sprinkles.

He answered her glare with, "What? It's not like you aren't going to work it off. Double training, remember? Plus, it's a holiday. Live a little!"

Natasha contemplated for a moment, then took a spoonful of fruit, whipped cream, chocolate chips, sprinkles and all. "Better give me some eggs, too, she decided. I'll need the protein to kick your butt."

Grinning, Clint started for the stove, but paused when Pepper nudged her fruit plate toward him. He gave her fruit the same whipped cream, chocolate, sprinkles treatment, before fetching Natasha's eggs.

When everyone was full of sweet, sticky carbs (plus protein), Tony sat back with a satisfied sigh. "OK, that was worth getting up for. You ever want to quit the hero biz, Cap, I'll set you up as a short order cook. What do you say? A little red, white and blue food truck? 'The Waffle Captain?'"

"The 'Waffle Star and Stripes'?" Clint suggested.

"'Old-Fashioned Waffles'?" Natasha offered.

"I'll be your first customer," Bruce said, as he finished off his fifth piece of perfectly crispy bacon.

"I'll consider it," Steve said. "After the Easter egg hunt."

Everyone sat up with renewed interest.

"Is that why the Assembly Room is off limits?" Pepper asked, gesturing at the closed French doors.

"Correct. In the Assembly Room I have hidden five plastic eggs apiece," Steve answered. "First group will be the ladies, then the scientists, then the spies." He offered tiny Easter baskets to Pepper and Darcy.

"You mean I get to play, too?" Darcy squealed in excitement. She had expected to simply assist Cap, since she was an assistant. But Steve was treating her like part of the family.

Which is exactly what he said. "You're part of the team. Of course you get to play."

Darcy snatched up one of the baskets she'd helped decorated and handed a second to Pepper. They were small baskets, with just enough room for five eggs, if you stacked the fifth on top of the pyramid.

As she waited for Steve to open the door to the Assembly Room, a thought hit her. "Is this like those community egg hunts, where the little kids get to go first so they aren't bullied by the older kids?"

"Pretty much," Steve agreed with a smile.

"OK, I'm down with that. It means we get to go first!" she told Pepper.

"Sam, as the guest, you get to pick which group you'll hunt with," Steve told his friend.

Sam contemplated the scientists and the spies. "Do they get to use weapons?" he asked, pointing at the agents, who were fully armed and dressed for training.

"No weapons," Steve told Clint and Natasha, in his firm Captain America voice.

Clint pouted comically, unloaded his handgun and set it and a boot knife on the counter. Natasha put two knives, an unloaded handgun and her Widow's Bites next to Clint's gear.

"OK, then, I'm up for a challenge. I'll go in the last group," Sam decided.

* * *

Steve opened the French doors for Pepper and Darcy. The women had different styles when they were let into the egg hunt area. Pepper knew the space well. She took note of knickknacks that were out of place and made a beeline for the shelves, pulling decorated plastic eggs from behind picture frames and out of bowls.

"Did you paint these, Steve?" she asked, admiring the flowers painted on one egg.

"I did the figural ones," Steve said. "Darcy did the abstracts."

"He means I just splashed colors around," Darcy said. She rummaged with abandon behind couch cushions and accessory pillows. Triumphantly excavating five decorated eggs in no time at all.

"You have a real sense of color, Darcy," Pepper said, as she placed her fifth egg – which was gaily splashed with yellow and teal – carefully on top of her pile. Together the two women returned to the kitchen to give the men their turn.

Bruce's approach was much like Pepper's. He surveyed the room for a moment, then scientifically began to explore the places that seemed the most logical hiding places. On the other hand, Tony thought Darcy's approach looked more fun, so he took it to the nth degree, flinging cushions off the chairs and tossing pillows on the floor.

"Tony!" Pepper said in exasperation, when his frenetic approach exposed six eggs.

"Oops," Tony said, only mildly repentant.

He collected the five designs that most appealed to him, then put a pillow over the sixth to "hide" it, though everyone was watching.

Bruce rolled his eyes and scooped out the rehidden egg to make his fifth. "Thank you, Tony," he said with mild sarcasm.

"Anything for a Science Bro," Tony answered.

* * *

Sam and Clint let Natasha enter the Assembly Room first, not out of politeness so much as self-preservation. She moved like a cat, graceful and faster than expected. She went directly tot he far side of the room that the other hunters hadn't reached.

From the doorway, Clint's discerning eyes had already spotted a sliver of color at the top of a lamp and the agent had identified other likely hiding spots. He swept into the room, triumphantly snagging the egg in the lamp. He knew Natasha would have seen it first if she had been just a few inches taller. Clint bounded to a chair to check the top shelves, ones that were above eye level but within Steve's reach.

Sam came after the others, checking any undisturbed area. His observance paid off when he found one egg behind a vase right next to the door. Everyone had passed it, when they moved deeper into the room. With that success, he checked along that wall even more carefully, claiming another egg from beneath the skirts of an armchair.

Clint and Natasha were bounding back and forth, almost sparring. They spent as much time trying to prevent the other from grabbing eggs, as they did collecting eggs themselves. It was amusing to watch and it looked like they were having fun, judging by the sly looks they gave each other.

Clint made a move for a green plaid egg on an upper shelf. Natasha tried to cut him off. They jostled the bookcase and the plastic egg fell into Sam's waiting hand.

"Thank you!" he said, and began to saunter toward the door with his full basket.

Natasha and Clint exchanged a glance, then stopped trying to impede each other. They split up and bounded through the room, snatching up the rest of the eggs at top speed – proving they had spotted all the hidden eggs already.

With their baskets full, they dove toward the door as if it was a finish line. Sam leaped forward to get the heck out of the way. The three egg hunters plunged through the doorway at virtually the same time. Natasha slid feet first while Clint dove headfirst and sprawled on the floor. His egg basket tipped, but he spun on his back and began juggling the eggs while he sprang to his feet.

"Show off," Natasha said.

"That was a photo finish," Tony said. "Hold your tickets, everyone. Jarvis?"

Jarvis projected an image that showed Clint's chin, Natasha's foot and Sam's chest all passing the doorframe at the same moment.

"I believe it's a dead heat, sir," Jarvis announced.

"All tickets are winners, ladies and gentlemen," Tony said in the manner of a racetrack announcer. "Take them to the windows for your winnings."

"Speaking of winnings, let's open our eggs," Darcy suggested, since she had helped Steve fill plastic eggs.

Inside there were candies, good chocolates and gourmet jellybeans. Some had notes corresponding to slightly larger treats that hadn't fit in the plastic eggs. Clint got two hollow, milk chocolate bunnies. He offered one to Darcy, who was eating a handful of jellybeans as if she hadn't just had a sugary breakfast. She shook her head.

"If those had been dark chocolate … but I'm happy with a double dose of jellybeans," she said.

Tony started negotiating with Bruce to trade for peanut butter cups. Pepper chimed in with a counter offer.

Everyone was laughing and enjoying the goodies, except the master of ceremonies, Darcy realized.

"It's not fair," she said to Sam. "No one got Steve anything for Easter."

He shook his head and smiled. "Look at him," Sam advised. "Everyone together having fun, that's all the present he wants. It's his gift to himself."

It's true that Steve looked more relaxed and happy than she'd ever seen the lonely, driven Avenger.

"But still … maybe I can add a couple of watts to that adorable smile." Darcy bounced over to the captain and held out one of her bags of goodies. "Hey, Steve, want a jellybean?" she asked.


	13. The Contact

_A/N: Based on events in Civil War, but set "In Between Time," between Winter Soldier and Age of Ultron._

* * *

 **The Contact**

The Avengers were stymied.

"I'm afraid we've run out of leads on the Tesseract," Maria Hill apologized to the Avengers. "We hope to find more once we go through everything we got from the last Hydra base, but as of now, I don't have anything to tell you."

"So, we can take a break?" Tony Stark asked hopefully. He sounded honestly exhausted.

Iron Man had been a vital part of the last three missions against Hydra labs. He'd always been the first in, as the one most likely to recognize which devices were important to save and which ones were most likely to blow up and kill everyone within a six-block radius.

Warned by the Avengers' two previous raids, the most recent lab had brought antitank weapons to bear against Iron Man. They hadn't destroyed the armor, but they had knocked Tony out of the sky. The scientist was bruised and battered.

"Yeah, Tony, take a break," Steve said kindly. "You've done your share and more. Go spend some time with Pepper. And you, Thor, I'm sure Jane misses you. In fact, everyone take some time off."

"Thank you, Steven. I will return when you need me," Thor promised.

Bruce Banner looked glad of the time off. He'd been neglecting his own lab work in favor of the Avengers'.

Natasha and Clint exchanged a speaking glance. Clint raised an eyebrow. Natasha inclined her chin a fraction. Maria knew that this meant they would take off to visit Clint's secret family.

"While you're taking a break, we'll analyze everything from the last raid," Maria promised, referring to the Stark Industries/Avengers support staff. "Give us … two weeks?"

Steve nodded. "Two weeks," he agreed. "I'll check back then and get in touch with everyone."

The Avengers and staff filed out of the conference room. Steve and Maria were the last out as usual.

"I have some information for you, Steve," Maria said.

"Why didn't you bring it up in the meeting?" Steve was puzzled.

"Not that Hydra search. The other Hydra search," Maria answered with a smile.

Oh, the search for Bucky. Steve eagerly took the paper, but it only had a time, date and place — lunchtime tomorrow at a restaurant across town.

"I have a contact in the CIA," Maria explained. "A former SHIELD agent — a loyal SHIELD agent," she emphasized. "She'd like to meet with you about some information that came across her desk."

"You trust her?"

"Absolutely."

"Then I'll be there," Steve agreed. "How will I know her?"

Maris smiled. "You'll know her when you see her," she answered cryptically, as she turned to leave.

Steve rolled his eyes. Spies!

* * *

"So, what are we looking for?" Sam Wilson asked, as the two men entered the restaurant at the appointed time. They stood just inside the doorway while Steve scanned the crowd for their contact. "A no-nonsense military type like Hill? A sexy fem fatale like Romanoff?"

"I'm going to tell her you said that," Steve warned.

Sam gave a dismissive shrug. "She'll take it as a compliment. No one's more 'fatale' than the Black Widow. Oh! Or maybe we're looking for a gnomish mastermind like Hetty Lang!"

"You watch too much TV," Steve said, though he was pleased that he recognized the reference to the "NCIS: Los Angeles" TV series.

"Yes," Sam countered sarcastically. "Because my life has been so boring since I met you!"

Steve was mystified that he couldn't spot his contact. He thought he knew a little about how spies thought. His contact should be seated against the back wall, away from windows but close to the rear exit, and with a clear view of the entrance. Yet he didn't see anyone.

Ah, but if a table full of hefty football players came in after she sat down, the contact wouldn't be able to move without attracting attention.

Steve took two steps to the left, so he could see past the college kids, and met a pair of rueful brown eyes.

"The girl next door type," Steve answered Sam's question, as the captain started across the room.

"The pretty blonde?" Sam asked, as she came into his view.

"She was the girl next door," Steve answered. "Well, the girl across the hall, when I lived in D.C.," he amended. "Fury sent her to spy on me. Neighbor," he greeted the blonde in a much more friendly tone of voice than the last time he'd said it.

"It was a protection detail," Kate/Sharon/Agent 13 said, as she stood to greet the two men. "Just doing my job, captain."

Steve started introductions. "Sam Wilson this is …" He paused, giving the woman a questioning look.

She took the hint, "Sharon Carter."

As always, the name "Carter" brought Peggy's face to Steve's mind, but he gently put it aside. There were a lot of Carters in the world.

They three made small talk until the waitress took their order, then Sharon became all business.

"I want to get this done before the food comes," she said briskly. She slid an unmarked file folder across the table to Steve. "The CIA has been on a Hydra hunt, just like the Avengers. We've been working with the FBI, trying to root out the ones hiding in the government, but we came across some information that my boss thought was more in the Avengers' line than the CIA's. He asked if I'd pass this to Hill, since we knew each other at SHIELD, but she thought it would be of more interest to you."

Sharon explained that the folder contained information about an abandoned Hydra base in Alaska. "The information is thin, but there's evidence that the Winter Soldier was kept there at one point."

"So we might find out more about the Soldier? Maybe get some clues about where he might take cover?" Sam asked.

"Maybe."

"Or it might be a trap," Sam joked.

Sharon laughed. "Maybe," she agreed. "But my boss vetted it. It appears to be a long abandoned base that might contain valuable information, though it's a remote possibility."

"It's worth a look," Steve said.

Sam smiled. "You always say that."

Steve ducked his head in acknowledgement. "So, what have you been up to, Sharon?" he asked, changing the subject when the waitress returned with their order. "Do you like the new job?"

"Not quite as exciting as my old job," she said with a smirk, reminding all of them of helicarriers on fire and buildings tumbling down.

"Old job was a little too exciting," Sam said.

Sharon talked a little about her work, then she and Steve began to reminisce about their time as neighbors. Steve was teasing her about her fake hospital job, when Sam remembered Steve's conversation with Natasha in the cemetery.

"Oh, you're the Sharon who's not a nurse!" Sam realized where he'd heard the name before. "The one Romanoff tried to set Steve up with."

Steve's ears turned red.

"I always liked Natasha," Sharon said, putting her chin on her fist and giving Steve a flirty smile.

"She kept telling me I should ask out my neighbor the pretty nurse 'She seems nice,'" Steve quoted.

"OK, that was a little mean, since I wasn't allowed to get too involved the object of my protection detail," Sharon said.

"Yeah, why did Captain America need protection anyway?" Sam asked.

"I've wondered the same thing," Steve admitted.

"It was more protection against rabid fans and stalkers, at least that's what Director Fury told me then. Keeping an eye on the man out of time. But now I wonder … it seems like he told me it was Pierce's idea."

"Well, I can see why a Hydra leader would want to keep an eye on Captain America," Sam admitted.

"But Fury chose an agent he trusted to handle the detail," Steve said with a warm smile.

Sharon smiled back and Sam suddenly felt like the third wheel at the table. He mentally smacked himself. Sharon had wanted to meet Steve in person to rekindle their friendship, not just to pass on information. Here Sam was blocking his pal's chance for romance.

But it was already too late. Sharon had to get back to work and Steve was calling for the check.

"I hope we can get together again," Steve said in his endearingly awkward way.

"I'd like that," Sharon said, offering Steve her cellphone number. "Call me when you get back from Alaska."

Outside the restaurant, Steve started for his car. Sam hung back for a moment.

"It was good to meet you, Sam," Sharon said.

Sam shook her hand. "Next time, tell Hill you need to speak to Steve alone," he hinted broadly.

Sharon laughed. "No need. I've got his number now. I can cut you out entirely."

"Good plan," Sam agreed with a wink.

* * *

 _A/N: In Civil War, when Sharon goes to the podium at the funeral, Sam nudges Steve. It didn't seem like a "pay attention" nudge but a "look who it is" nudge. But Sam and Sharon never met in Winter Soldier. Now they have._

 _And if you read my story Ambushes and Other Plants, you know how things went in Alaska. If you didn't, you should read it and then come back here next week for part 2._


	14. The Contact, part 2

_A/N: Warning, read the previous chapter, "Contact Part 1," and the standalone story "Ambushes and Other Plants" because there will be spoilers for those stories in this chapter._

* * *

 **The Contact**

 **Part 2**

If she hadn't been so concerned about the men following her, Sharon Carter would have been disappointed to see Sam Wilson standing next to Steve Rogers at the meeting point. She could have sworn he intended to give Steve and her some space to get to know each other. But as it was, she was relieved to see the extra backup.

She walked briskly along the curving path to the secluded corner of the park.

"I'm being followed," she reported calmly, when she got within earshot.

The men's reaction was oddly unsurprised. Sharon slowed to a stop.

Steve was relaxed, body in balance to move instantly in any direction. Sam's arms were crossed, his gaze level and expressionless.

"You knew I was being followed," she realized. "Were those Hill's people?"

"Probably," Steve agreed. "I doubt you saw our people."

"Because I may have taught you everything you know …" said a voice at Sharon's shoulder. The CIA started violently, spinning ready to defend herself, but Natasha Romanoff was standing with her arms crossed, drumming the fingers of her right hand on her left arm.

"… But I haven't taught you everything I know," Natasha finished.

"I don't understand …" Sharon started, but she was a trained agent. She figured it out quickly. "Oh my God, it was a trap!" She gave Steve a searching look. His face and arms seemed unmarked, as you would expect with his healing factor, but when he turned a certain way, she could have sworn she saw lettering on his arm. Her eyes turned to Sam and she saw bruises, partly concealed by his dark skin, and half-healed cuts on his face and arms. "But you're all right, right?" she asked anxiously.

Steve smiled suddenly and Sam relaxed, flashing his teeth. Natasha nodded.

An arrow plunged into the turf at Sharon's feet. She danced backwards nervously. Natasha calmly picked up the arrow, showing a white ribbon tied to it.

"Clint agrees," she told Sam and Steve.

Clint could have spoken to the others through the ear pieces she saw they were wearing. Instead, he chose this dramatic, vaguely threatening gesture. Why? Sharon felt a chill down her spine when she realized she still didn't know where the deadly archer was.

And yet, she felt no animosity from the others. And with that realization, she felt relief.

"You don't think I betrayed you," she said. "I'm glad, but I don't know why."

"Because you came," Sam said simply.

"With fresh lipstick, even," Clint Barton's voice said in her ear.

Sharon was a trained agent. She may have started, but she didn't blush. The tips of Cap's ears turned pink. Only a keen observer would have noticed. Unfortunately, Steve was surrounded by them.

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Fresh lipstick?"

Now Sharon's cheeks turned pink.

Sam took pity on the couple. "If you had sent Captain America into a trap, you wouldn't expect to get a call from him. And you certainly wouldn't come to a meeting with him."

"No, I'd run far and fast," Sharon agreed.

Clint fingered his bow. "Not far," he corrected, giving Sharon that chill again.

"I had faith in you," Steve said in a warm voice that drove away the chill.

"Hill defended you, too. She told how you fought Rumlow on 'Captain's orders,'" Clint said. Hill had seen the fight in the control room from her perch in the security office.

"She said you liked Rogers too much to betray him," Natasha said with a smirk.

* * *

Sharon remembered the call from Steve.

"Hi, neighbor," the familiar voice said. "Don't say any names," he warned. "I need to see you alone." He gave the secluded location in the park.

Sharon thought the mystery was kind of cute, payback for Maria Hill keeping the identity of her "contact" secret. Nevertheless, Sharon followed orders, telling her boss she was going to meet a confidential informant. She carefully refrained from refreshing her lipstick until she was clear of the building, out of the view of professional spies.

Sharon was happy — until she realized she was being followed. She briefly considered not meeting Steve, but he was already in sight. And if Captain America couldn't take care of himself, who could?

Turned out he didn't need to, and neither did Sharon.

* * *

"What happened in Alaska?" Sharon asked.

"Hydra set a trap to capture Cap for experimentation," Sam said angrily.

"I hope you flattened them," Sharon said fiercely.

"Funny you should put it that way," Sam answered.

He recounted the story briefly, how Steve helped him get away but was overwhelmed by the enemy. "Neither of us would have gotten away if it hadn't been for Barnes," he concluded.

It was hard to wrap their minds around the fact that the Winter Soldier saved Steve and Sam. Only Steve had no trouble believing it. Sam had a hard time and he'd seen it.

The story hit Sharon hard. She had sent Steve and Sam to their deaths. It was only luck and an unforeseeable ally that saved their lives.

Knees shaking, Sharon sank to a seat on a park bench. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I thought the intel was good."

"Where did you get it?" Natasha said bluntly.

Sharon said her boss gave it to her. "But I'm pretty sure he didn't do the research himself. Let me do some checking and I'll find out what his source was … if you still trust me?"

For answer, Clint pulled the white ribbon from his arrow and handed it to Sharon.

"We trust you," Steve confirmed. "But be careful."

* * *

Sharon was very careful and very thorough. She found the Hydra mole who had been deleting info from the CIA computers and inserting his own false intel, sending many agents on wild goose chases and leading Steve and Sam into a trap.

When Sharon laid out her evidence in front of her boss, he personally arrested the technician — gagging him so he couldn't bite down on his cyanide tooth.

Then many vengeful CIA agents, with Special Forces assistance, raided nine Hydra strongholds in simultaneous operations across the country. One hundred and twelve Hydra agents and sympathizers were arrested or killed. Only six had a chance to suicide and only three Special Forces personnel received minor injuries.

The operation was a triumph and Sharon received a commendation and a promotion for her work.

She told Steve all about it over coffee — just the two of them, finally.

"Maybe I could take you out to dinner to celebrate," Steve offered.

"I can't."

Steve deflated visibly. Sharon touched his hand. "I'd really like to, but I really can't." She made a rueful face. "I was so successful tracking down the mole, the CIA is sending me to special training at Camp Pendleton in California. I leave at 5 a.m."

"And when you get back?" Steve said hopefully.

"They want to post me to an international task force in Europe. I won't be coming back — not for awhile."

"That's a big honor," Steve said.

"I really can't say no," Sharon said.

"No," Steve agreed regretfully.

"I'm sorry. Seems like we never get anywhere."

"Don't say that." Steve lifted his cup and tipped it toward Sharon in a salute. "We finally got our coffee."

* * *

 _A/N: The coffee he promised his neighbor Kate. Poor Cap, always two movies behind in the romance department._


End file.
